He was Saved
by deeh
Summary: Nothing else seemed to exist, not the dying warmth of the setting sun, or the phoenix lament in the distance, nor time itself. Nothing at all, but simply the bittersweet promise of tomorrow.DHr
1. The Sin

Hello! It's deeh here! Just wanted to post this before the new book comes out. This is a pretty angsty story focused on the very broken, very young canon Draco. I wanted to keep my Draco here as canon as possible since there was a lot of character development in the last book, although for comical release I guess there will be some element of fanon of course (it's DHr of course there will be fanon!) I've been on a writing hiatus for a very long while, thus this story is quite old, but I like it. Oh and beware of a few of the themes, there is self-harm, attempted suicide and things like that. There's also a level of language I want to warn people about. This will be quite a short story as chapter lengths are pretty short compared to what I'm used to, but yeah I'll just shut up now so you can read So er, 'nuff said – enjoy! Hopefully…

He was Saved – Part 1 

He stood tall before them, his hands shaking with the temptation to cower in fear. Yet with the smallest glimmer of strength he found within himself, he managed remarkably to maintain an upright posture and keep his hands from shaking convulsively. Pursing his lips in a thin hard line, he kept his head bowed, glaring towards the floor so as not to let his eyes betray him. Eventually, his lips began to pain him; they were clamped so tightly against one another for he feared that he would whimper pathetically if they were even the slightest fraction ajar. He _would not _betray himself.

The looming black-cloaked figure emerged from the shadowed darkness, glorious… _evil_. The inner-circle dressed clad in Black robes and masks in the dimly lit chamber, dropped to their knees. He did also, and with overwhelming nausea, pulled up his sleeve and exposed his clean, white untainted forearm. Slowly, with painstaking dread, the dark figure approached. Step… by…step. There was a loud echoing around the room as heels clicked against moist, diseased stone. He gulped; his breathing turned to ragged exhales through his nose as perspiration seeped from every one of his pores.

The figure stopped before him. Easing out of the dark waters of the cloak, Lord Voldemort extended his ghostly hands and grabbed Draco's exposed arm. Long pallid fingers grazed him gently, stroking a tender lover's caress, mocking him, taunting sardonically. Draco had feared him to the point of loathing him completely. This loathing seemed to have enhanced his sensitivity to the Dark Lord's touch. The gentle touch was an excruciating flame searing, eating into his flesh. Voldemort's fingers were ten sharpened daggers fulgurating against his skin. He imagined it bleed crimson with a rush of his own blood. He hated it, but most of all, he feared it.

Then, by some unscrupulous audacity, Draco experienced the gratifying thought of killing him, and by doing so, simultaneously saving the world. _To hell with the world, _thought Draco, _I just want to kill him. _He recalled speaking of death in the past and previously treated it frivolously failing to consider the implications of ending someone's life. But the Dark Lord – this half-man standing before him, caressing his hand as if to torture him sadistically, - had threatened to exterminate his entire family! He was coerced to kill Dumbledore for shit's sake! Voldemort most likely intended his death already. Albus Dumbledore against a sixteen-year-old brat? To hell with that! And yet even though Draco had held the upper hand… he would not recall that night… he held a life in his hands… _a life. _He had the _power. _It was a power coveted obsessively by all Dark Wizards alike, the Power to kill Albus Dumbledore. Wasn't this - what all this was - a _bloody power struggle? _

…But why _that_ power? Not that sort of power, he couldn't handle it. What would they do to him if he refused it…? He had no choice but to be subjugated to their ultimate control. However, since that fateful night where he and Professor Snape disappeared, a nagging voice had been telling him that he _did _have a choice. He could refuse this power and suffer the consequences… But, no, Draco wouldn't do that. What if the Dark Lord had won this stupid war? What then? He would surely be killed. His confliction was whether to choose between what was good and what was bad – what was right and what was wrong. He knew the answer, but countless times he could never bring himself to say 'no.' _I'm not Potter, _Draco thought, resigned. _I'm not the Gryffindor Hero. I just want this to vanish. _To hell with Potter, the Order, and Potty's quest to find the horcruxes – Who gave a damn! Now all Draco wanted to do was kill Voldemort. He subjected him to this humiliation… was this the epitome of a Death Eater? Is this what he was going to become? This was not the glory he had imagined.

No choice…

_This is not my glory!_

He wished to plunge the sharp blade of his dagger into the Dark Lord's heart and hoped in doing so, it would rip relentlessly at his last piece of soul. He craved to feel the dark wet trickle of blood trail across his fingers and seep to the stone floor. Every crimson drop would be a drop of his life. The body would collapse and convulse before falling limp in his bloodstained hands and then he would be satisfied. But never would he do such a thing, for at the same time, he would climb to heaven and journey through hell to please his new master. Draco loathed… _this. _Entrapment – It was his succeeding paradoxical emotions and desires. Abhorring his master and yet he would be willing to commit wholly to him, accepting everything silently without objection.

_You've imprisoned me you vile bastard. I'll get you back for it…_ It was the last thought in his mind before he released himself of all emotion, cornering his thoughts and feelings behind a reinforced cement wall, privy to the prying bastard's mind. Aunt Bellatrix was very useful in teaching him occlumency. He leashed his fear with all his mental strength and transformed it into ready acceptance. Lord Voldemort lifted his hand with a preternatural feline grace and hovered it above Draco's forearm and whispered his destiny through dry, grotesque lips.

The real pain, the literal searing, burning and fulguration. His arm was tainted, stained forever. Killed. Diseased by this horrid _brand. _He had been imprisoned, incarcerated with the only escape as death. For a fleeting moment, Draco's focus broke and he stared directly into the Dark Lord's eyes. Two blood red rubies staring at him, scintillating malevolently. They were the last things he witnessed, before he could no longer withstand it.

_You bastard son of a whoring bitch …_His last shred of defiance, before submitting himself completely. Draco collapsed unconscious. There would be longer be liberation, in its stead, the despairing dull ache of sin that would never be redeemed.

-----

The congregation whispered low murmurs underneath the soft candlelight in the basement kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place, London. A deadly seriousness permeated the air, weighing it with its intensity. Only one voice spoke, through the whisper of the night – even the portrait of Sirius' mother had been temporarily shut up. The one voice, Bill Weasley was making his report as his flamboyant wife Fleur clung closely to him, even she uttered no sound.

"The whispers are rippling." Said Bill, his voice deep and laced with a steadfast resolution. "They are planning and his followers are rising in number. A number of us have been scrutinizing his movements." Bill nodded to a few members of the Order, such as Kingsley Shacklebolt the Auror and Lupin, as his report drew to a conclusion. "… And also." He added in finality. "Harry, Ron and Hermione have alas found the sixth Horcrux." He finished. Gasps filled the room in unison mingled with some sighs of relief.

All but one reacted. "…When are they destroying it…?" Asked Mrs Weasley, her voice hollow and apprehensive.

" As we speak." Replied Bill. Mrs. Weasley jumped up to standing position with such a startling force, that it toppled the chair over behind her.

"We shouldn't be sitting here! They could be in danger!" She cried immediately leaping to hysterics. "This is the _last _external horcrux, You-Know-Who would do anything to protect it! He'll kill them!"

"Mother -" Started Bill, but was disrupted.

"He's desperate I tell you – Arthur! -" She turned to her husband for support, " – Tell him!"

"Molly…" He whispered tiredly, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Do you lack that much faith in Harry, Ron _and _Hermione?" His voice was faint. Mrs. Weasley escalated from her already angry shade of red, to a shade of puce as she did her best to quell her anger and frustration. She was a remarkable and uncanny representation of Uncle Vernon, as strange as it appeared.

"I've already lost one son! I will not lose another!" She looked at all of them, searching each one of their faces for a voice of reason; the faces remained blank. Her eyes settled and pleaded with every one of them. She finally rounded to her eldest son and looked him straight in the eye. "Bill, Ron is your _brother._" Her argument bordered a plea.

"Mother as you said so yourself. You-know-Who's desperate, which is the real danger here. He needs numbers more so than he needs souls." Said Bill calmly and evenly as if to placate her with his own example of imperturbable serenity. It seemed just enough to keep her mouth closed. "Both sides are gaining strength, he's getting desperate and if he's going to initiate the Final Battle that will end this war than I think its safe to venture the guess that it will be very soon."

"But -"

"Molly…" said Lupin serenely. "I have it on good accord, from Fenrir Greyback and all the other vicious, subliminal creatures in his league, that He-who-must-not-be-named is preoccupied tonight."

"With what?" asked Fred and George in unison, all sense of humour and frivolity characteristic to them had momentarily vanished. (And alas Mrs. Weasley had permitted them to attend the Order meetings).

"A Death Eater initiation."

"Who would special enough to merit such an initiation at the given time, weeks away from the Battle that would end it all?" Asked Tonks, screwing with her nose confusedly. Lupin paused for a moment, a soft remorseful sadness glazing his eyes. He sighed heavily as the room waited in a choking silence for the answer.

"A young boy…" he finally stated. Time came to a pregnant pause as the room waited, half-knowing just what name he was going to speak, but the idea was too abominable to be believed. "… Draco Malfoy."

"Merlin, Bless his soul." Breathed Arthur, although he despised the Malfoys with a burning passion, he could not help but pity him. He was just a boy after all, and a naive one at that. "Evil boy, although, I hope he knows what he's getting into because in the end, he's still a -"

"A child." Mrs Weasley finished softly, suddenly thankful, that even though her boys and Ginny were in danger, they weren't coerced to submit to that sordid mortal peril.

The sudden deafening crash of the umbrella stand, three heavy thumps and an ear splitting screech -

Everyone rounded to Tonks - who despite having an infamous reputation with clumsiness - incredulously shrugged. Then as instantaneous realisation dawned on all of them, they scrambled out of their chairs, disrupting the deadened intensity. "Harry, Ron, Hermione!"

Everyone dashed like lighting bolts ascending the stairs.

All three of the reckless teenagers lay sprawled haphazardly on the floor bruised battered and bleeding but wearing the weariest of triumphant smiles – well Ron had already passed out, but still he did wear a sort of wonky smirk. Hermione's hair was dishevelled, her muggle jeans torn in at least twelve different places and her lips puffy and bruising. She strained to keep her eyes open as she slid through the threshold looking as though she had deliberately ran into the Forbidden Forest claiming all centaurs were half-bred, subhuman idiots. Her appearance resembled that of Umbridge as she was retrieved from the forest, subsequent to being carried off by herd of them after she referred to them as 'half-breeds with near-human intelligence.' But Harry, looked just as he always did – yet as equally injured, perhaps even more, as the other two – his jet-black hair stood at the back and his green eyes blazed happily behind cracked glasses and drooped eyelids as he curved his lips into a knowing smile. "W-We did it!" Exclaimed an exhausted Harry, relieved as his eyes finally drifted shut.

---

He gazed carefully at the bleak point of blank darkness in front of him and gulped. The screaming, _a_ screaming. Ever since he received the mark, a screaming filled the caverns of his mind. It did not sound female, it did not sound male. However he knew it was pained and anguished, a morbid desperate song. He was supposed to receive the mark _last _summer upon receiving the task, yet for some unimaginable reason, the Dark Lord simply chose to grab a knife laced with his blood and scar Draco deeply on his left forearm. "This is will remind you of the glory you shall receive, shall you succeed." _Yeah, _thought Draco sourly, _What a bloody good reminder that was. _His eyes trailed upwards to where his hands would be hovering, simply inches above his head, ready to plunge his dagger deep into his stomach. His breathing was quick and irregular. It was almost a pant as sweat droplets seeped in their torrents from his head, causing his platinum locks to plaster to his skin. His hands shook violently over the dagger as he tried to restrain them, vowing to do this. The screaming would not cease; its excruciating song grew to a crescendo.

_I am going to do this, after this I will be free. I can do this! I can do this! _

He had been sitting on his knees like this for at least half an hour, his heart thumping wildly like an enraged lion ramming itself against his ribcage, he could feel it ramming in his ears. _I'm ready, _he thought, determined, _I will end this once and for all… _But all he could do was hold the dagger fearfully above his head as he ordered himself to stab it into his stomach, his muscles failing to comply. He wanted the yelling to stop, the song of his own conscience begging him like a mother crying for her dying child. _For fuck's sake just do this Draco! JUST DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!! _

"Aaarrggghhh!" He roared in frustration waving his arms around like a madman. "Bloody hell!" He yelled loudly, his voice bouncing across the walls. There were no lights, so his vision was completely obscured - and yet, he felt safe hiding behind that cowardly fact. But he literally could not see a thing, not a bloody thing and he wasn't going to trust his coordination if he couldn't even see where he was going stab the bloody dagger - he didn't trust coordination with something as important as his life. The room was pitch black, not even a dying candle to send him a hint. His frustration escalated as he realised the ridiculousness of it all. "I can't even bloody kill myself properly." He hissed angrily. This was absolutely absurd! Only yesterday had that ugly, maiming _thing _beenbranded into his arm and now, as he tried to do probably the only noble, dignified and minutely righteous (although cowardly) act – he couldn't do it because they were no bloody lights in the bloody room!

It was a lame excuse and he hid behind it.

He sighed and set the dagger down before him. _I don't want to be a part of this…_ He lifted his sleeve and lightly placed two fingers across the mark, feeling the searing burn of his skin as its once pristine pale, almost white flesh was raped into this blackness by that revolting mark of evil and despair… His mind reached a philosophical standstill.

But what was righteousness and dignity…? He asked himself. He didn't want to be responsible for the Death Eaters. He wanted a way out… was this being noble, and righteous? In choosing not be a murderer by murdering himself, _was that right?_ Or was this _extreme cowardice?_

What were these things _they _fought for? It was just a stupid little power struggle. Why not fight for things _you want_? Why did Potty, Weasel and the Mudblood fight for… whatever the hell they were fighting for? _Love_, or something. _It isn't that great, _thought Draco blandly, _then again… neither is this power. _He tasted the power and enjoyed it immensely for a short while, but when he faced the man he was about to kill and looked him dead in the eye… Draco swore vehemently and shut his eyes, evading the memory. It wasn't worth having to suffer this incredulity.

He had experienced some kind of love, not a lot, but brief moments of its fragility. His family operated differently. There would be no public displays of affection, or corny lines plagiarised from a book or song, there would be no pet names or terms of endearment - Just curt nods - a _yes sir_, or a _no sir_, either that or a _yes mother_, or a _no mother_. But he knew something existed, something that bound them together. It was why his mother had implored Snape to protect him last year against the wishes of the Dark Lord. It was why every time he querulously complained about school, his father would do something about it, and he could rely on his father to act upon it. But… more importantly it was the reason why he worked more than his ass off the entirety of last year to please the Dark Lord, because he was going to _kill his family. _

Draco didn't know if that was love or any absurd happy-go-lucky emotion relating to love, but he knew something universal and privy continued to exist. Perhaps not always evident but existing in its subtlety, and Draco had to admit that most of the time, there were frequent moments when there was absolutely no love at all. This love he knew was harsh and brutal but kind, blessings in disguise. Perhaps what he thought of, as this unifying power wasn't love at all. Well of course it wasn't Potter's kind of love, where you turn stupid and soppy all over a woman - that was simply disgusting. And the Weasel Clan's love? Oh no. He abhorred those redheads with their smiles and hugs and _selflessness. _What in hell was that? Why would you go around doing things for people and expect nothing in return? They called it kindness and benevolence, well, Draco called it injustice.

Finally… the mudblood. Granger. She was a thing of her own. An image of her thick brown curls and glittering brown eyes ablaze with fury appeared inside his mind. He coughed, looking repulsed as he actually admitted absent-mindedly that the image contained some appeal to him. That was just inappropriate.

On the other hand was power. And lots of it. He experienced what this power was to be and it was not his glory. _"You're not a killer Draco…"_ the defeated old voice pleaded softly. _"You're not a killer."_ Draco looked away, almost tearing at the memory and grabbed the dagger roughly, holding the point to his stomach. Squeezing his eyes shut, he raised the blade, ready to bring it down with enough willpower and tenacity…

He stopped and dropped the dagger. _I can't do it… _Draco stood and strode quickly out of the room, spitting in disgust as he left. He would never step foot in that chamber ever again. "Effing coward."

The song still remained.

And then, through the quiet click of the door, he realized the screaming voice was his own. Looking back towards the darkness. He screwed his eyes shut, ready to lament, scream and rage at this plaguing entrapment. But as much as he closed his eyes, compromising tears pooled in the gaps, leaking down his face. Now he only wished for someone to confide in, a friend, anyone – even that idiotic ghost of a girl back in the boy's bathroom, _anyone. _Leaning against the wall, he calmed his breathing and walled the tears away, wishing anybody would hear him… It daunted him as he soon realized that nobody would. There was no one for him, no one he could run or turn to, he was playing with the big boys now… and he was abandoned.

_If only someone… _His eyes tearing once more, he scratched and tore viciously at his blackened skin where the onerous mark had been imprinted. His mind, yelling and screaming, had lost all rational thought. "Go away! Go Away!" He whispered angrily at the Dark Mark, digging his finger nails ferociously. "Go away." He pleaded, breaking down into a wreck of tears, fury and anguish, sinking pathetically to the floor. Downwards, he fell, a plummeting forsaken drop as his trickling arm bled. And yet… there was beautiful pain. In the stillness of silence, where only his own ragged breaths could be heard, he leveled to the heavenly state of numbness.


	2. Heroic

**AN:** Hello again! I forgot to add something in the last chapter that I will do now and probably for the chapters proceeding…add a disclaimer.

**Disclaimer:** If I were richer than the queen, then I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction about I story I created myself. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, I think being richer than the queen is flattery in itself, therefore I would not need to flatter myself… after all that, I still don't own it.

So there it is. Firstly, I would really like to thank **lilchibi** who seemed to be the only reviewer, (glares at all silent people). Thank you very much for your review and I'm really glad you liked it! And yes, this story will continue because for once in my life, I need to complete something. Thanks again!

I'll just add, that this story will be submitted in parts, rather than actual chapters as I had originally intended this to be a one shot, or three-part story. Initially I was thinking… "Ok, that'll be a cool one-shot, I'll take up maybe, 12 pages at most." Then I found myself writing page 25 and thought "eheh, no…It's gotta be submitted in parts." Like the original Lord of the Rings, no one really wants to read something that long… anyway, here's the next chapter! A little OOC in my opinion, but… I can't seem to mould it any other way. A little longer than last time, since I was trying to find an appropriate place to cut it off. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy!

He was Saved – Part Two

Hermione Granger stared longingly out the window of her bedroom after waking from which would probably be, the longest sleep she had ever endured. After returning from destroying the sixth Horcrux the previous night, she today, rested and had the Order arrange to remove her parents from the country. Of course, they'd wished for her to accompany them, but after ardent reasoning, they understood her place was here. Her forlornness weighed her atmosphere as she watched the rain pelt against the window in her and Ginny's room at the Burrow. Finally, tearing her eyes from the drops, she looked around the room, her eyes not really absorbing anything … for she knew the day was coming soon. Very soon. Perhaps the day after the next? Perhaps tomorrow? … What would become of them afterwards? Who will live, who will die? _Will I die?_ The prospect of waking up every single day wondering whether today will be the day you'll die was the most dreadful experience that Hermione had ever encountered and yet, she had to be thankful for it. It made her prepared.It was her duty and she knew what she had to do. Her eyes glazed with tears, reminiscing the moments she last felt completely oblivious and carefree, "I'm scared…" she whispered finally, bowing her head in shame, as if she had just betrayed the Gryffindor House. That made her so damn angry. Furious.

Looking up, she roughly wiped away her tears and wondered. "How is the other side doing?" She thought aloud. During her sleep, she caught a whiff of someone being initiated into the Death Eaters… She may have been dreaming, or wrong, although it sounded real, but the thought of new recruits frightened her a great deal. Last time Voldemort had _giants_ on his side…Standing from her place, she walked cautiously down the steps and into the kitchen. There she found everyone, surprisingly seated.

"Ah, Hermione, dear." Said Mrs. Weasley, welcoming her into a comforting hug. "Your parents will be off in a few days and you'll know they'll be safe…" The statement did absolutely nothing to improve her mood. "…Anything for lunch?" She tried to be cheerful, she damn tried. It just made Hermione want to cry.

Hermione shook her head. Her throat felt dry and parched, her stomach felt shriveled as if it no longer existed. Giving her a weary smile, she sat beside Harry and Ron at the table.

"My suspicions were correct." Whispered Harry, seriously.

"What do you mean?" Asked Hermione.

"That no good son of bitch, Malfoy's a Death Eater."

"_What?"_

"Yeah, it happened last night. Stupid blighter, I'd kill him if I had the chance." Piqued Ron. A lump of dread rose in her throat.

"That would be too kind Ron." Muttered Harry darkly.

"But… he's only _seventeen_." Reasoned Hermione. "He couldn't possibly…"

"Hermione, think about it. _We're _seventeen." Said Ron, placing a hand on her arm. She looked away and closed her eyes.

"We're all more involved in this war than we think…" She breathed softly. "Both sides are." As much as Hermione hated the sodding git, despite herself, she pitied Malfoy, knowing that at his age, it would be high possibility that he would not survive this war… Most would think that was a good thing. Hermione thought so too, however, it simply saddened her that now, too many souls would have to die because of _a power struggle. _Heck, she had just as much of a chance of dying as Malfoy did. They were the same age, they were all alike, they were all at the risk of dying, and they were _all so_ angry. Hermione buried her face in her hands, almost sobbing in furious tears. "Whatever becomes of us…Harry, Ron… it was a pleasure."

----

She trudged through the corridors of the lonely, God-forsaken school and recalled the events of that night almost seven months ago. Memories of chatting students, squeals and giggles of fourth-year girls, the boisterous, bellowing of sixth year boys… and the occasional frenzied whispers of nervous first-years. She was meant to be Head Girl this year. It was her dream, ambition – it was, as if she was born for such a role… she knew it. She was supposed to be valedictorian too. The reminiscent sounds filled her ears as she ignored the empty loneliness of her lone footsteps clicking against the stone and echoing off into the darkness.

This will be her first and last time here since last year, she just wished to arrive here once, to face her fears and harden her heart. Harry failed to explain Dumbledore's Death coherently due to his own shock and devastation, therefore she resolved to visit the scene for herself. Of course she had been in the Astronomy tower previously during his Hogwarts years, but now aware of the events that had taken place in that tall, formidable tower created an entirely different image, completely foreign. Finally after ascending the ridiculous amount of flights, she reached the door. It was plain with a wrought iron handle that rusted over time, she deigned to grasp it and held her breath as she twisted it downwards and stepped tentatively inside.

Painfully, she swallowed the lump in her throat. The room was exactly the same as it had always been, large glassless windows- that often let in a horrid draft, red Persian carpet, a distinct array of desks and telescopes – save for two things. The absolute atmosphere of _death, _the furniture reeked of it easily as if it had been used in a thousand funeral services. But the air itself was polluted with a rotten heaviness that almost made her gasp for breath. Along with the abhorrent atmosphere, a displeasing sight soiled her eyes.

The figure, tall yet slumped in a discernible defeat had been gazing out the window, with as much longing that it was as if he was willing to hurl himself out the tower and soar into the eerily bright moonlight. Appertained to its ambiguity he seemed as if he'd wish more than anything to belong wholly to the skies. To a completely oblivious individual extricated from the last seven years of Hogwarts' history, they would have thought the sight of this boy quite endearing, beckoning sympathy with his melancholy – However Hermione felt absolute loathing and disgust. She remained silent as she watched him suddenly move, he hoisted himself up onto the window ledge and teetered on the edge, looking precariously below. She crept forward into the room, curiously, her heart thumping.

_What on earth does he think he's doing? _She wondered. He turned, upon beholding her appearance he was stunned into a shock before that shock transformed into fear as he suddenly lost his footing – he fell. Shrieking, Hermione dashed forward and caught him by the arm. He looked up hatefully towards her. "Get the hell out." He snapped. _Did he not care?_

"Yeah, that's a very nice way to thank me." She replied, grunting. "You ungrateful ferret, I'm _trying _to save your life here." Said Hermione through gritted teeth as she held his hand with great difficulty as he hung dangerously off the side of the Astronomy Tower.

"I bet you're enjoying this aren't you?" He said. "What a story to tell your friends back home. You just adore this. Come to watch Malfoy throw himself off the Astronomy Tower did you?"

"Shut up Malfoy." Yelled Hermione as she tried to haul him up. The boy looked thin but gravity was really working against her.

"Let me go mudblood." Snapped Draco, energetically waving his arm around. She was actually shocked at how unafraid he was. Here he was dangling for dear life on the side of the highest tower of the whole bloody castle and he was waving his arm about!

"_DO YOU WANT TO DIE!" _Screamed Hermione as Draco was doing his best to _make_ her drop him.

"You'd think that's what someone was trying to do if you saw them jump off a bloody tower!" Draco screamed back. "Let me go! You humiliate me by touching me!" Hermione wanted to drop him then, he'd rather be a stupid bigot than have a muggleborn save his life. _Sheesh!_

"YOU! You insolent…" Hermione gritted her teeth and attempted to haul him up once more. "You're the one that's humiliating Dumbledore's proud memory by coming up here! How dare you." Hermione gripped his arm tighter, that's when she felt it on his skin. Looking down, she squinted. In her surprise, she _almost did_ drop him. "Oh my God," she whispered, "the Dark Mark… I'm touching it." And with a last burst of strength, she grunted as she finally hauled him over and back into safety.

They lay there on the floor, in a daze and breathing heavily. He was the first to break the silence. "Why…?" He asked turning his head to look at her.

Taking a heaving breath, she stood and glowered at him, for a moment she offered her hand to help him up, and then shook her head against it, returning it to her side. Why did she help him? She had no good reason, as far as she knew, he deserved to die. Perhaps it was the feminine nurturing aspect within her, or maybe the war had alas driven her insane. Raising an eyebrow, he stood by himself. As soon as he was up, Hermione was sparing no time at all to slap him. And she did. "_How dare you come here! _How dare you come here and defile Dumbledore's grave, you _Death Eater_!" Hermione yelled, raising her wand, tempted more than ever to hex painfully off, his appendage that all males valued ever so dearly. She was more furious than afraid, and she had to pride herself in that.

Upon hearing the term 'Death Eater' she saw a margin of a flinch, it was pained yet brief. She concluded that she had imagined it. Draco hardened his features and tried with everything he could to hide the disgust of the Mark on his forearm, and replace it with a staggering pride. He smirked while an enraged Hermione, tightened her deathly grip on her wand.

"You're proud of it aren't you?" She accused.

Draco folded his arms arrogantly. "Of course I am you filthy bitch."

Hermione chose not to rise to the bait and quelled her rage. But some had managed to seep through. "What the hell were you thinking?! You are _depraved_!" She snapped. "I'd kill you right here at this very moment but I'll save that for the battlefield, I have no wish to desecrate Dumbledore's place of death even further by spilling your blood upon it."

"You taint this very air just by occupying it mudblood. I'd say the same. I do not intend to smother my perfect hands with your subhuman, fetid blood." He turned his back towards her, "You're not even worth looking at." She could have hexed the shit out of him then, and honestly he didn't care if she did. He'd attempt it himself, but he knew he was an effing coward. He sighed and approaching the window and allowed himself to completely forget Granger was still occupying the room. He looked downwards and wondered how far he would have fallen if she had just let him go…

"What the hell are you doing here anyway? And you'd better have a valid reason or I just wasted my time saving your ungrateful ass." She snapped, he could feel her glare boring holes into his back. "If it were Harry or Ron they wouldn't have even bothered to catch you." He didn't answer for a moment. Honestly, he came here simply to return to the scene. This place had plagued his dreams for countless days and nights, haunting him prying at his own sanity, he almost lost it that night when he held the dagger to his stomach – yet thankfully, the screaming had subsided a fraction, enough to keep him somewhat sane. He had hoped that if he actually came to this place, it would all stop… the screaming had calmed a bit… then Granger entered and distracted him completely.

"The screaming…" he whispered in admittance. He hadn't even realised he had said it.

"You're depraved _and_ insane." Hermione concluded dispassionately, folding her arms.

Her contemptuous voice knocked him completely out of his reverie. He looked at her, her expression a blend of hatred and pity. Immediately he was insulted, _She pities me, shit that is just shameful. Pitied by a mudblood! Ha! What next? Be charitable to a house elf? _"You know you have the most annoying voice." He snapped. It was a pathetic retort, and he knew it.

_Now_ Draco knew what he had become of his life, this stupid war was more than just a prejudice against mudbloods and muggles, it was a power struggle between two groups -childish bastards who wanted to take it all for themselves. Just to see who was superior and inferior. The Dark Lord did this to him to punish him, he expected him to die, and when Draco didn't, the Dark Lord drew him closer. He made him a part of his inner circle to torment him, buckling him underneath the fragility of his age. He didn't want to care about this, he just wished to be a neutral and unbiased spectator on the sidelines, not an insipid pawn in this whole diabolical plot. Draco was exhausted from this, having to hate half the world because they simply existed. His gaze flicked towards Hermione, he would have preferred her to be a pureblood rather than Longbottom who carried only copious amounts of air and half-a peanut in his cranium. He closed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair, although he kept it smooth, it felt unnaturally rough. Wanting Granger? Perish the thought. Yeah there had been some appeal to her, just as Blaise thought there was some appeal to the Weasel-ette, despite Blaise wanting to squash the notion. Slytherin boys named these certain ladies _untouchables_ and hated them indefinitely because they had to be born on the other side.

Hermione stepped up to him uncertainly. _Now _shepitied the poor delinquent. Despite all her deliberation and ranting voices in her head, she _touched_ him gently – but only to see if he actually _was insane_. He yelped and yanked away as if she had just seared him. _Understandable, _Hermione thought blandly, without insult. Perhaps the pressure did make him nutters.

He stared at her, too stunned and bitter to be disgusted. "What was that for?" He whispered quietly. "Don't touch me."

Hermione shrugged and gazed out the window. "I don't know." She said flatly. "I wanted to be sure that you still walked amongst the living. I don't need to be trapped in the Astronomy Tower with an insane Death Eater." She spat the words. As difficult as it was, she pushed aside her hatred and looked at him stoic and apathetic. His usually regal features looked pained and anguished – it was alarming, he wasn't Malfoy at all. At this moment he looked like a dying puppy, and _that _was saying something.

"I'm very aware of your attraction for me Mudblood, as most women are but honestly, your intent gaze is disconcerting." He smirked half-heartedly. There was a hint of the Malfoy she knew lost within his tone, but somehow the arrogance was overpowered by defeat.

She scoffed. "In your dreams Malfoy."

"What are you still doing here?" He asked with annoyance.

"I want to know what happened here." She stated, fighting the fear from her voice. "And despite my obvious, unfathomable hatred that I have for you, I think you're the perfect person to tell me…" She hesitated for a moment, remembering that she was standing before not only her enemy, but a troubled seventeen-year-old. "…So why'd you do it?"

Draco flinched, deeply hurt, it was one thing for her to wrongly assume he was fully responsible– whilst _knowing _it was in fact Snape - and it was another thing for her to actually accuse him of it. But in truth, he might as well have said the curse anyway. "Wouldn't you like to know? Stop pitying me, I don't want it, nor do I need it." He muttered, turning away from her.

She huffed and crossed her arms. "Cut the cliché, 'I don't need sympathy' bullshit. I don't care if you want or need it. You don't deserve it. Your deplorable state simply evokes it. What happened here seven months ago?" She pursued. "And don't avoid it. I know just as well as you do that you didn't come here just to hurl yourself off the side of the tower and end it all. You came here to face it for the last time, didn't you?"

"I…" He sighed. He hated her being right. Why was she always right? Stupid intelligent mudblood. "It-It wasn't me…" Oh God was he stammering? He couldn't believe himself. He began before he could stop himself, stepping to the darkest alley of his mind – the twisted, vile place he named memory lane. _He needed someone corporeal to confide in… NO, _he told himself, even if it wasn't he that spoke the incantation, it was just as much his responsibility as it was Snape's. _Merlin's beard! _He concluded, _oh my God here I go; oh shit I'm already telling her. _"He was going to kill…" Draco faltered, he felt as if was confessing to that ghost again. When requesting for someone to confide in, Hermione Granger was surely not the person he had in mind. He was telling her, which perhaps simply displayed how distressed he was. He was displaying weakness to the enemy. He was telling her the truth, and he had no idea why. Did he really feel so lonely?

"I was conflicted." He stated. "I wanted to say it to rid myself of my burden, and then he said those words to me… that, that made me realise things that had never occurred to..." He squeezed his eyes shut, creating a barrier for his tears. From the corner of his eye, he chanced a glance at the mudblood to find tears already streaking her flushed cheeks, he grinded his teeth. "The curse was said and he fell out this window. That's it. Enough said." His words were suddenly harsh and demanding. "Now get out. It's none of your business."

She disobeyed him. "You're expecting to die, aren't you?"

He turned to her, fury burning in his eyes, appalled at her audacity. "You little!"

"We all are you prat." She interjected, "So don't start feeling special."

He turned away. "If you must know, I am. If you want a full record of my life, go visit that ghost who mopes dreadfully in the lavatory. It'll cost though, published works will sell for a hundred galleons." She could practically feel his arrogance leaking off him, emanating from his tone. Though it annoyed her immensely, it was comforting to note a sense of humour. However dry, it was ironically comical.

"The ghost who… _Moaning Myrtle's a shrink!_?" She blurted, nonplussed.

"Leave it mudblood." He replied harshly so as not to divulge any further incriminating knowledge. She could have giggled. Not that Draco Malfoy would ever make her giggle. Ever. Harry and Ron would simply _adore_ this.

"Life just seems so short now… well you wanted to commit suicide –" he grimaced at her words, "- stupid, you'd die anyway. However I'm expecting to wake up and die everyday. I need to do something extraordinary so I know I'll have an accomplished life." Hermione admitted in turn.

Draco rolled his eyes so exaggeratedly that they could have rolled out of his head. Drama Queen. Why did she think he cared? Merlin he didn't give a bloody damn! "Dare I ask why the hell you're telling me this? Why would _I _your _superior _want to meddle with your little peasant dramas?"

"Well," she sounded prissy, which made him wonder what kind of pole was shoved up her ass. "I think conversing with you here is quite extraordinary, regarding our history. I guess you're glaring at me through your nose too much to notice." She pursed her lip and looked ready to smack him across the face, "And," she continued, "This isn't just a '_little drama' _this is the _Second War,_ Malfoy" She emphasised with an infuriating patience."A war I know you are very much involved in, as much as I am. You're a walking contradiction you know that, you just proved yourself that blood does not account for brains."

_Was I thinking aloud…? _He asked himself.

"Mudblood, _you are raving_. But as much as I loathe to admit, you are correct - you must reeling just being in my presence." He said with an impatient tolerance of her. He spared her a quick glance to watch her react, and chuckled.

"To hell with you." She stated simply. "And to your condescending bullshit."

"And to you… and to your prissy, Gryffindor, fake noble-crap. Don't pretend to be sitting on a higher pedestal just because you've got a decent set of morals. Setting many obvious and substantial factors aside, we're all the same here and you know that." He retorted. She was a mudblood. Why was he enduring her presence anyway? Nonetheless… she is the first he had seen of his classmates, not even Crabbe or Goyle, or even Blaise had showed at some point. She brought with her obliviously a sense of nostalgia and it was infuriating – how he wished normality would return.

"Quite frankly, I should be leaving, I need to be doing something more important than wasting my precious time here with you." She turned and headed towards the door as she approached the handle, she slowed. "Wait…" She stopped. "How do I know that as soon as I close that door you won't just climb that ledge and jump off anyway?"

Malfoy smiled - a sadistic menacing expression, "I don't know. You'll just have to trust me."

"You're stupider than I thought if you even think that I'm -"

" Granger, don't get your knickers in a knot." He exasperated.

"Shut your trap Malfoy."

"Shut yours. It would benefit a hell of a lot more people if your hole was permanently closed." He spat, uncrossing his arms advancing on her. It was a scare tactic and she knew it. She did not step back to widen the distance between them, she would not grant him that kind of satisfaction.

"You! Urgh! I hate you." She spat, heading for the door.

"Common knowledge." He replied casually.

"I don't give a damn if you throw yourself off this tower!" She vehemently declared – and honestly she didn't – "Just don't leave any of your contumelious mangled remains on Dumbledore's grave. Do what you want. Wank yourself to death for all I care, just don't defile the sanctity of his memory – If you do, I'll know." She was haughty indignation _personified_! It was amusing yet…terrifying. Her last words were a threat Draco knew she'd live by. Turning on her heel she thrust the door open violently enough, that it banged, reverberating loudly against the wall. He watched her make the sounds of an angry cat – which coming from her sounded more like a constipated cow – however that was irrelevant.

"See you around Granger." He murmured too softly. He watched her fly down the steps, muttering curses underneath her breath. Amongst them was the expected 'insufferable git' not that he cared though. He smoothly ran a hand through his hair, and resolved not to die until he got to _this _certain _untouchable. _He chuckled. If he did anything, she'd know. Which meant she would return.

Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs and glanced once more upwards into the spiraling edifice. _"_Damn that asshole_." _Shaking her head, she strode deftly down the bleak corridor and at once came face to face with… Moaning Myrtle. She grinned as a vindictive idea sprung to mind. "Why Myrtle… don't you look lovely this evening?"

A/N: Do I really need to beg for a review? Review! Review! Review! All reviewers will receive some virtual chocolate from me, and my highest esteem.

Hm, can I ask a question? I discovered the other day that my friends and I are quite under the wraps about our HP fandom, let alone DHr. And, anyway my mum was just about to throw my school uniform in the wash when she came across a piece of paper in my pocket that I wrote a few story ideas on, along with a few paragraphs for a fic, 'cause waiting for your bus after school is boring, you know? … And so I was faced with the compromising predicament of having to explain the HP fandom, fanfiction and DHr to her… awkward. Yes. Very awkward. So I was thinking, why not create a fic for all you lovely people entitled "Explaining, the HP fandom and DHr 101?" What do you think? Opinions, thoughts, ideas are welcome. :)

Don't forget to review! It's just a click away…think of the belated cyber-Easter chocolate!!


	3. Righteous

**Disclaimer: **If I were JK, then Dumbledore wouldn't be dead and DHr would happen. Seeing as those aren't likely to happen in the books, then it's not mine.

**A/N:** Hello! And thank you very much to those who reviewed!** Hephaistos, MarmaladeFever, ****Mz Raine-xoxo, 3 Kangin . and shoopah jooneeah .** You all receive an abundance of belated cyber Chocolate!! And my greatest thanks and respect lol I didn't realize it was, well, funny but thanks! Here's Part Three, Part 4 is coming soon… I hope you enjoy!

Hermione watched as number twelve Grimmauld place stretched into view. She looked around towards the guard that had accompanied her to Hogwarts and motioned them to enter first, modestly. She had no intention of angering them even further as they all flustered and fussed about her as they watched her emerge from the northern wing of the castle, teary-eyed and morose. She emerged about after an hour, Tonks and Dawlish slightly annoyed at her taking so much time, however they understood she needed time – but time was not in their ownership. As soon as they glimpsed her tearful figure emerge, they rushed to her wondering what on earth happened. Hermione winced painfully at the memory, closing her eyes in shame. She was still in disbelief that she grew teary-eyed over Malfoy. Sometimes, she hated compassion – especially when it overpowered her hate. She almost cried _over Malfoy. _Almost. Myrtle had positively gushed to tell her everything, _everything _as an attempt to defend Draco and tried to make her understand his situation – making her pity even more the sodding git, which was absolutely absurd. She wasn't supposed to be sympathizing for the enemy. He was Malfoy for God's sake! Maybe it was Myrtle's melodramatic story-telling ability, or maybe perhaps Hermione was just too gullible for her own good. For once in her life, she needed to get her facts right.

Hermione shook herself to rid herself of any previous emotion. He was a stupid little boy who dug his own hole in his own sandpit. It was his problem – not hers. "Insane git." She muttered, stepping across the magically protected threshold. Her parents were to be on a chartered carriage out of the country tomorrow and she wanted to give her last goodbyes as soon as she could. It may be the last time that she'd ever see them.

She returned to Hogwarts the next day, just after sending her parents off to France where she knew they'd be temporarily hidden. It was the most painstaking and difficult task she had ever had to accomplish, but removing her parents from the country was her top priority. Hermione needed a place of solitude, a home away from home where she could feel safe and alone to settle and think. Hogwarts was it, and war or no war; nothing was going to change that. Opening the door to the Astronomy Tower, she screamed…

Draco mustered whatever shreds of courage that lay within him and returned to the Astronomy Tower. He didn't expect Granger to return, for he knew about the chartered carriages, she'd probably be too busy delivering her parents to the 'Promised Land,' by the name of Southern France. Looking below, he allowed his mind to seek its stillness as he had been doing recently, to hinder the episodes where he almost teetered off the edge. Draco peered over the window ledge, his mind flying away with the falcons that flew swiftly amongst the towers and into the Forbidden Forest… In a brief moment of utopia, everything had disappeared…

BANG "Aahh!" A blood-curdling screech pierced his ears. The violent thunder of the door vibrated along the walls. Draco jumped a foot in the air and almost did join those falcons in the forest, he was also sure, the owner of the blood-curdling screech wouldn't save him this time. "What in the name of hell are you doing here!"

Bloody hell, Merlin's beard and may the Dark Lord be merciful. She was back.

"I asked you a question, you insufferable git!" She demanded storming straight up to him.

"And I refuse to answer you, you insufferable know-it-all." Replied Draco smoothly, turning around. Her cheeks were flushed pink with anger, and her fists shook violently in his direction. Merlin was she livid!

"I came up here once more to find some measure of solitude and here you are! _Again!_"

Draco slapped her shaking fist away from his face; thankful it wasn't grasping a powerful wand. "I'd think you'd be quite occupied today Granger." He responded quite calmly, although sneering as if he held the power of knowledge against her. He knew something she sure didn't, and Hermione could sense it immediately. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What's going on and what are you doing here? Do you follow me?" Hermione surveyed his confident expression as he sneered openly towards her. She remained silent stepping back to widen the distance between them, but not once did her eyes leave his collected visage. She had to admit, reading Malfoy's face was similar to reading a book only half translated in English. She could discern a fraction of what he knew, but what remained was inconceivable to the naked eye. She was no _legilimens _and it was apparent that Malfoy _of all people, _had somehow acquired some skill in occlumency, a skill Harry couldn't master even if he wanted to. He hid his emotions well, but perhaps, not well enough. "… How did you know I was going to be busy today?"

Asking the question was a gamble, but it wasn't far off the mark. Malfoy looked surprised. "A hunch." He replied to the seriously irate Granger. "What I know isn't any of your concern Granger."

"A hunch you say." Hermione repeated skeptically, subduing slowly. "Do you come here everyday?"

"No. Why are we having this conversation?"

"This isn't a conversation. I would never willingly engage in any social contact with the likes of you, or any of your… side." Stated Hermione prissily. Instantly, Draco's anger flared. _How dare that smarmy little wench! Don't worry Draco, _he told himself, _you'll throw it right back in her face. _From Hermione's speculation, his immediate displeasure transformed into a satisfied smirk, that was not something she anticipated to be friendly.

"What on earth are you, you smiling, scrawny bastard, so smug about?" She asked him as if he were squashed worm she swiped disgustingly off her shoe. He seemed not fazed by her overwhelmingly contemptuous attitude, only chuckled at it. Hermione bit back an irritated growl.

"Well I figured you wouldn't come here today…" He trailed off as if it were of some kind of dramatic importance. This infuriating effect reminded her of Slughorn in the past year and his expertly timed reminiscent gazes into the distance for overall story-telling effect, Myrtle seemed to harbor this quality also. The blatant question of 'How' hung in the air as if it had actually been spoken. "…Well, I'll tell you Granger…" he began examining his nails purposely prolonging the revelation. Hermione gritted her teeth and quelled the urge to hex him. "You see, now by I being 'promoted' to a higher status-" He angled his arm in such a way that the sleeve fell revealing the mark, this action executed so swiftly it almost looked as if the flash of the Dark Mark had actually been an accident. "-I sometimes hear around the halls of my esteemed home, the uh, certain _plans _to be executed on certain dates. Especially ones concerning the Order's arrangement to deliver _loved ones_ out of the country…"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. No he can't have known… no one but the Order was aware. "Y-You lie!" She exclaimed. Malfoy gave her a malevolent expression that told her, he knew that she knew he wasn't. _He can't know! _Hermione thought to herself frantically. _This has just got to be the usual Malfoy making himself bigger than he actually is. He's just boasting about… but how could he know? It wasn't revealed to anyone else! _Like a swift blade, Malfoy's voice pierced through her thoughts.

"How does the weather in the South of France suit you in this time of year…?" He asked casually, seeming to display an innocent interest in her answer, the sadist. He marveled in her shock, it was beautiful, he was the winner in the end, _and he _had the last word. She couldn't escape from this one.

Hermione was completely taken aback. Malfoy surely was informed. Her parents were on their way to the South of France along with carriages full of other relatives of Order members, they were transported from the country because the Order knew they were definite targets in order to weaken the opposition. It rendered her to a stunned silence.

"How…?"

"It's not a question of 'how' Granger," He smiled evilly, "But 'what' as in, what time you're going to arrive in order to save them."

Subconsciously, Hermione was already backing away towards the door. "What are they going to do…?"

Draco shrugged. "You'd better run."

Hermione was torn between whether to believe him or not. Her eyes glazed with worried and uncertain tears, they flickered towards Draco's evil smile. He wasn't lying. Whipping around, she flew down the steps in a hasty and frantic daze. Draco watched her leave as slowly his sardonic grin faded….

"Shit. Father might kill me for telling her that."

---

Her fast-paced footsteps echoed in the never-ending hall, her chest heaved heavily as her hair flew about her face as if her tendrils were caught in the wind. The white fluorescent lights blinded her vision, and the stark white walls seemed to conceal all with their façade of purity although disease and death lay behind them. Skidding to a stop, she grasped the doorframe of the room B-17 and cried out in fear. Harry and Ron were running breathlessly behind, grabbed Hermione's cloak to inhibit her from entering but she desperately tore away from their grasp. "No Harry! Ron! I must see them! I MUST!" she looked back at them with tear-glazed eyes and wrenched away from their reluctant pull. She ripped away the curtains of her parents' hospital beds… and wept bitterly.

Harry and Ron approached tentatively, placing comforting arms around the sobbing Hermione. From what they could tell her parents were under a potion-induced coma to allow their wounds to heal. Harry closed his eyes to block out the horror, their faces… who once looked human… were marred beyond recognition. Both of them looked like Bill if you ever saw the extent of his injuries after the infiltration of Hogwarts last year. Their flesh peeled, the deep dark wounds, almost black in their centers, the black disgusting burned flesh smelled fetid and the yellow crusting skin outlining each gaping gash smothered with healing salve reminded him of medieval and grotesquely intricate tapestry back in Hogwarts depicting a garish and morbid battlefield. These people sported no longer the faces of the Grangers. It was heart wrenching for Harry, although he couldn't imagine worse the pain of Hermione.

She couldn't do anything. She was too late.

Hermione opted for solitary confinement for the succeeding several days, only emerging to use the bathroom and eat. However, during mealtimes she spoke to no one. Once she sat by her windowsill watching the rain creep slowly down the fogged glass of her window. Each droplet followed its own path, crossing over each other reminding her of wispy spider webs blooming on the pane. The concept of leading her own path suddenly crossed her mind. She knew where she wanted to be and just wished her parent's didn't have to pay the price. Her eyes pricked and watered, she cursed and blinked the tears away. She was too late to save them - she couldn't be Harry. Yet it was Malfoy who had warned her in advance…

Malfoy…

He needed to follow his own path too. From what Myrtle had expressed, this entrapment wasn't his choice. Of course initially he wanted to be a Death Eater and enjoy a glorious and powerful future laid out before him but… he wasn't ready for it. No one at their age could ever be ready to commit to something as monstrous as a lifetime of servitude to the Dark Lord. Then suddenly, a light conceived inside of her like a phoenix emerging from its own ashes - taking on a spectacular fiery form… she could not save her parents, but there was one person that, perhaps, she could.

There was a deadened air about her for the days onwards especially as she climbed the steps upwards to the astronomy tower a week later. Being around her seemed to grow depressing despite her many attempts to cheer herself up through rationalizing - it wasn't like her parents were dead_. But they weren't going to wake up the same people either._ Hermione pushed these thoughts out of her mind as she grasped the door handle and walked through the door, allowing a cold draught wash her feelings away. It no longer came as a shock to her that he was standing before her. She knew instinctively this is where she'd find him despite anything he had said.

He turned as she entered an expression of complete indifference plastered across his features like a stoic mask. Obviously he had heard. However, Hermione chose not to care what he thought as she leant on the door behind her and stared at the floor for a full five minutes in silence, while he leant upon the open window and watched her carefully. The deafening silence dragged on unceremoniously as he waited inexorably for her to speak, she was the obstacle blocking the doorway after all.

"…I was too late." She stated simply, finally raising her head to meet his Atlantic eyes, ice-like but as silver and piercing as sharpened daggers. "No," she continued. "No they're not dead." She allowed the damned word to hang in the air, ensuing another silence between them. As Draco assessed this information he didn't know whether to feel relieved for her sake or disappointed for his supposed cause. It was a completely indifferent subject to him, if he had not been here to 'end it all,' or so to speak, on that significant day, he otherwise wouldn't be concerned about this in the first place.

"Why are you here?" He asked bluntly. "You being your soft, Gryffindor, _noble s_elf should be by their bedsides. I don't want a chat."

"I don't give a damn what you want Malfoy. I came here because there's something I need to do." She lifted her chin indignantly and glared at him fully, it was at this that the dawning realisation had struck him, he was finally able to witness the extent the last week had done to her. Her appearance was haggard and distressed as she hadn't eaten or slept in days, the purple tinges underneath her eyes only made her look dead – her hair, although a tangled mass of _jungle, _it was lifeless and almost even _limp. _Yet her eyes… he couldn't describe what he saw in them, they weren't deadened like the rest of her striking appearance, but held a striking Potter-like quality – a certain… fire he couldn't quite describe. They only seemed to gleam in what little light there was.

"I came here as an act of gratitude." Said Hermione, once more ending a long and thick silence. It barely made a difference, for her voice was as hollow as the silence itself.

"Gratitude?" He spat the word with contempt.

"You informed me… even though I didn't get there in time… I at least was able to see them as soon as I could have. So thank you." She almost spat it out, unable to believe what she was doing. Afterwards, she let her gaze slip from his and focus on the failing sunlight silhouetting him from behind, melting into the darkness of horizon. Draco was at a loss for words, he hadn't even intended to divulge that information to her! He wasn't meant to! And yet he did for the sake of spiting the woman. And here she was, thanking him for it. What a… urgh, her attitude towards life amazed him to no end. If someone had revealed that sort of information to him, he would beat the living shit out of them for not telling him sooner.

"You are one deranged person Granger," he sighed, _and_ _a filthy muggle_, he thought sourly.

Her gaze flickered back to his. "You'll never be one of them, you know." She muttered softly.

"_What?_"

"You're not like them Malfoy. I know what you did that last year, but still. You're not one of them, you can't because sometimes you actually listen to your conscience." She stated quietly. This was one of the things she had been mulling over as she spent the week in her room, why Malfoy told her. Yes, it may have been just to spite her, but they were many different methods of doing it. He had even instructed her to run. Was that out of some small measure, however a miniscule fraction of him it may be, of goodness still within him? Does the Dark Mark truly rob you of all benevolence and love-like humanity?

"What the hell are you on about Granger? Of course I'm- as you say – _one of them._" Draco scoffed, folding his arms. The idea that he wasn't was so preposterous it was laughable. He wore the mark didn't he?

"You're not Malfoy. You're not."

" God damn you, I am!" Draco yelled passionately. He _was_ a Death Eater. He lived his life trying to live _like them_. He went through the pain and confusion of receiving the mark to be _like them_. He spent all those damned and difficult nights practicing occlumency to be _like them_. He ENSLAVED himself and worked his HARDEST last year to be _like them_. If he wasn't one of them, it had all been for nothing and truly… if he wasn't one of them, he didn't know who he was.

Hermione shook her head sadly. This is the conclusion she had come to. Why couldn't he see that? "You'll never be one of them." Her voice was just as calm and as hollow as before. She did hold a glimmer of sympathy for him and she knew he was ensnared and conflicted within a darkness he didn't quite belong to. Hermione discovered this earlier during her musings, if not, then he wouldn't keep seeing her like this. It was only Draco's choice to truly do what was right.

"_I AM_ one of them!" By this point, Draco's anger had flared. Roughly he shoved up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. It shone brightly, a black beacon, prominent against albino-like skin. "I _am _one of them!"

Her eyes flickered towards it as she then scoffed lightly. "You may wear their brand and cite their teachings but you'll never be one of them. You can't. You're not like them. If you were, Dumbledore would have died by _your_ wand."

"Shut up!" He yelled, grabbing her throat and pinning her against the wall.

"Stop that! You're choking me!" She gasped, scrabbling at his clenched hand against her neck. Despite her protests he didn't move. "Look at yourself Malfoy. Just take a moment to see. I saw what happened on the scene where my parents were found. I saw the dying, the hurt and what's become of it. I witnessed what they had done to my parents and they are _maimed beyond recognition!_" She tried to take a breath. "And now I look at you standing here. You're just a boy like how I'm just a girl in a war that requires us to do things we've never thought we'd _ever_ do! I don't think you're capable of doing that to a person Malfoy. I honestly don't. You may try to be like them but you're not! You don't want to be in this war any more than I do."

"What does it matter to you?" He whispered venomously through clenched teeth.

"I can't stand to see one more person suffer because of them. _Even if it is you_. I'll cast my hatred aside because, just like you said: we're all the same. We're all simply teenagers robbed of the peak of our adolescence. The time to act is _now_ Malfoy. I at least am on a side where I know I belong, where I know I fight for what is right. You… you still have to make that decision. You're going to die sooner rather than later if you don't make the right choice."

"I've already chosen a side!" He yelled, tightening his grip on her neck as hot tears glazed his eyes.

"Is that your choice!? Or your father's? Is this truly what you want? TO TORTURE, MAIM _AND KILL PEOPLE!?_" She screamed.

"WHY DO YOU CARE!?" He screamed back.

"Because I believe YOU CAN BE _SAVED_!" She yelled back at him, finally shoving him off. "I believe you can be saved from a damned destiny!" She stared at him, breathing heavily, her eyes alight with a fiery determination and strong will.

"My fate is already sealed, mudblood! Has your lack of nobility made you too blind to see?" He yelled back, yanking his sleeve back up once more. "My damned fate is sealed. Manifested by _this!_ Look at it! _This!_"

She stared at the Mark, truly beholding its gruesome glory when suddenly, it began to shrivel and burn. She gasped in surprise. Oh God it looked painful, as if someone had taken an invisible hot poker and jabbed into sharply his arm, searing his skin with it. Judging by the sounds of Malfoy's agonised groans and raspy breaths, it surely felt like it too. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "Malfoy? Malfoy what's happening to your arm?"

He was kneeling on the floor, clutching his forearm, his face contorted with such a pain as if he were about to die. Sweat beads trickled slowly from his temple as he heaved a breath. "I'm being summoned." He managed to choke out. "You should know, you copied that idea with those bloody coins in fifth year."

He was right, only Hermione charmed them to heat up a little; not burn the skin off one's arm! This was morbid - this was horrendous! How could Voldemort be such a man! These were his own followers, how could he do this to them? Instantly, Hermione found a renewed hatred to towards him, even though the Death Eaters probably deserved it.

As soon as it had come, the pain subsided and Draco hopped off the floor, looking as if he ran a marathon. "Don't try to save me Granger." He muttered darkly, "You're not Potter and I'm not another one of your god-forsaken little projects you can try to mend. I'm not some meandering, pitiful House Elf who irons his hands too much…that pathetic organisation you tried to establish was primordially _doomed_ to fail."

Hermione was about to speak in protest when he continued. "Living with Potter must have addled your brains, you can't save the world, and you can't save me."

She hated to admit he was right. She knew she was ambitious and she always fought for justice, but maybe Harry's influence had taken too much of an effect. Did she also acquire his courageous, bravado of a 'saving-people-thing'? But Malfoy needed direction and… he simply needed _help._ That was it. Hermione couldn't deny a person in need, she couldn't Even if it was the enemy, if she simply abandoned a person in need (regardless if it was Draco Malfoy or not) then, what differed her from her enemy? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Besides, she wasn't trying to save Draco. She was trying to help him _save himself._

"Listen Malfoy I -"

She was cut short by another episode of grunts and groans. This time, Malfoy was doubled over as he groaned from the burning pain, grasping his arm so tightly his knuckles flushed white. "I'm being summoned," he rasped, "I must go…" Without another word, he gave her a last glance and flew down the stairs. For the very first time, she watched him haste down the spiral staircase, his figure growing dimmer and dimmer until he could no longer be seen.

**A/N:** Review? The DHr plot begins! (mainly because I believe Hermione's so righteously insane that she'll actually help him) Please review, it doesn't take long - It only takes about two minutes, and there's 168 hours in a week. I won't make you do the math, but it seems like quite a fraction don't you think: Happy reviewing! Clicky clicky! The more reviews the faster I update – keep that in mind :)


	4. Peaceful

**Disclaimer: **I can't be creative right now. So insert own witty disclaimer here so lawyer-people can be happy. No I still don't own it.

**A/N:** Part four is here. Thanks to those wonderful people who reviewed! Hmm, I guess I'm obliged to warn about language here, and there is a little thing with this fangirl-ness in me that doesn't seem to want to go away. I've always wanted to write a fic, where Draco is in leather trousers (it's completely fanon and crazy I know) but it is simply a mention of it, and no it's not going to be cliché. But the screaming fangirl in me made me do it. Blame her. Ok, back to the chapter... I'm not very sure about this one… I only like it solely because of the last paragraph. It's a little shorter this time, but I Hope you enjoy!

It seemed as if they were expecting him, mused Draco as he stepped tentatively in the Dark Lord's dimly lit chamber. The others had already been punctual enough and were kneeling around the dais of Lord Voldemort. He stood in the doorway, acutely aware that he was watched by all, a lump began to form in his throat and a sense of dread bloomed throughout his insides. Draco exhaled slowly as Wormtail lead him inside.

"Ah…Draco," crooned the Dark Lord icily. A rush of cool air greeted him as he approached. "Come Draco, come." He instructed, as if he were Santa Clause offering him a place on his lap. The idea was utterly repulsive. Stiffening, Draco stepped forward and bowed. He seemed to be the only one standing in the room and had no idea why. "My faithful," Voldemort spoke to everyone, without a moment's hesitation spared on mannerly necessities… _of cours_e, this was the Dark Lord for heaven's sake. "It is time to witness what happens to those who fail me. Your long awaited gift Draco…"

Draco's eyes widened. _Oh fuck!_

"Bella." He instructed. His Aunt Bellatrix stepped forward, she wore no malevolent smile or apologetic expression - her features were a cold and undeceiving mask, nothing more. Draco closed his eyes and steeled himself for the pain his was about to receive, administered by his own Aunt no less! Through the deadened air, her deep feminine voice articulated the curse.

"Crucio."

Red Light. In an instant Draco found himself on the floor as his body exploded with, white, hot, unforgiving pain. Feeling as if his head were to crack open, he bit down on his lip, hard. A display of weakness was completely out of the question. All that came from him were muffled screams as he writhed and rolled in agony. He felt as if every pore of his skin was being simultaneously burned and stabbed, burned and stabbed, burned and stabbed. It was excruciating. It was as though he were allergic to himself. Through the only thoughts of absolute agony that drilled themselves inside his mind, he somehow could hear a muffled gasp, probably that of his mother. It was like a far away dream compared to this torture.

Soon enough, Bellatrix lifted the curse. Draco lay there, his chest heaving like a large bellows, his Death Eater robes were drenched in sweat and blood from his profusely bleeding lip and several deep scratches that had appeared, perhaps sustained when he writhed and thrashed violently on the floor. Afterwards, his mind regained enough clarity to force his body to roll over and slowly stand, although he vacillated considerably due to the effort. The Dark Lord smiled. Draco needn't restrain himself from glaring at the man, he was too exhausted. This was what the Dark Lord wanted, have Draco in his ranks to torture and punish him as he pleased. Sadistic bastard.

"Draco…" whispered the Dark Lord, although emitting from him, it sounded like a well articulated, eerie hiss. "…You are in your youth and such a fresh recruit," He spoke leaning in. "I'll be merciful with you" he whispered as if it were a dirty secret only shared between the two of them. 'Merciful' ha, fuck the bastard, thought Draco, you don't know the meaning of the word. "I'll acquit you for now." The Dark Lord continued, "If you can prove yourself worthy of my ranks within the Final Battle, then I shall consider redeeming you… if not…" Draco could almost _feel_ him smiling, "…You may be able to receive a _special_ _kiss_…"

A soft, anguished cry escaped from somewhere to the left of him. This time he was sure it was his mother. He was doomed, either kill a tonne of people or become a garden vegetable for the rest of your life. Great, thought Draco, _splendid!_ …Though underneath his dry sarcasm, his insides were quivering with fear.

Shortly afterwards, the convergence had adjourned and many were already in the process of apparating, others, preparing to leave. Narcissa Malfoy approached her sister, her eyes watering yet her expression stony.

"_Don't_ look at me like that, Cissy!" Snapped Bellatrix, "I did what I had to do."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and blinked several times to remove any trace of tears. "Remember Bella, he's _my only Son_. I want to see him live through this war… alive and _well_." She said coldly, yet her undertones were beseeching. "I don't want him to receive the kiss."

"Neither do I." Stated Bellatrix indignantly. "He's my nephew and I did what I had to do tonight. As far as I'm concerned, Draco had it coming," She strode towards the Chamber door. "Whether he deserved it or not." She added, silencing her sister's upcoming protest. "He failed the Dark Lord _and_ us. You know perfectly well what happens to those who fail him. He let him off easy tonight, be thankful for that."

----

Harry or Ron never asked where she went every evening, simply assuming she was performing some kind of ritualistic visit to her parent's bedside in St. Mungo's, or returning to Hogwarts everyday to - they didn't know - read every book in the Library while she still lived, or something. Or maybe Hermione was in the Hogwarts Library to acquire more information about the Dark Magic they were fending against, only once ever in history and living memory had it ever failed her. They were sure that aside from Necromancy, Horcruxes were about as evil you could go. Unless Voldemort had reached a profound level of inhumanity that was unheard of. Yet, evading all the usual assumptions, Hermione was in the Astronomy Tower every evening, waiting for _him_.

It was not that she _wanted _to reside within his vicinity. No. Definitely not. There was an irritating and undoubtedly compelling aspect about the place that drew her to it. Besides, she felt as if this were her job, her duty to – God help her, and may the reasons forever remain unknown – help Malfoy. He didn't deserve her attention or her help for that matter, but reluctantly, Hermione Granger the Heroine of Gryffindor and Saviour of the World felt that she could offer guidance or a better chance. It's what Dumbledore would have done. Despite what Malfoy did to Ron, Katie and eventually to Dumbledore himself, Dumbledore had offered stretched out his blackened hand and offered to help Malfoy. Love your enemies, he did just that even when he was about to _Avada _him in the face. _God, _thought Hermione with a newfound awe, _He really was the greatest wizard of all time. _

It was three days after Malfoy had been summoned, that he finally returned to the Astronomy Tower. He opened the door and found Hermione seated in one of the long abandoned chairs staring off into the distance, a reminiscent gleam in her eyes. She slowly turned her head to face him, resembling a night owl with all their supposed wisdom. Draco lifted an eyebrow to her presence, to be honest he shrewdly expected her to be there. Judging by their last argument, he suspected she wasn't about to leave him be any time soon. That bloody _persistent _mudblood. "You're here early," He commented dryly. "Not saving the world today, I presume?"

"Well, if you're here, I wouldn't be, now would I?" She quipped. Hermione stood from where she sat and turned to face the cold breeze filtering through the window. "Not donning your uniform Malfoy?" She asked as he approached, realising he wasn't wearing his usual Death Eater robes or carrying that horrid mask either. He didn't answer to that. From the corner of her eye she surveyed his appearance, she barely saw him in anything but his school robes and was struck by curiosity. Instead, he wore a floor length, black velvet cloak with silk lining. Its clasp at his neck was silver – pure no doubt. He wore black robes underneath, lined with silver thread and by some stretch of the imagination, (she earnestly thought it was a trick of the light) leather trousers. Hermione, hastily cleared her throat and shifted her gaze before it could elicit some smart-ass comment.

Stupid rich kid.

Despite herself, memories of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil's vapid conversations about members of the opposite sex sprung to mind. Well, throw a bunch of hormonal and sexually driven teenagers in one big place, and make them live there for a year – things are _bound_ to happen. Leather trousers… Hermione cleared her throat once more. God she despised him, flaunting his wealth like he was a beacon of it. Idiot. It was quite a task to keep reminding herself of why she was here.

"Impersonating Umbridge?" Asked Malfoy, "At the rate that you're clearing your throat, someone would think you idolised her."

Hermione's response was nothing short of outrage. And… a smidgen of repulsion. "That over grown, fat toad? She was a bloodthirsty gargoyle. I would never… the vicious…"

Malfoy chuckled, remembering her lovely tactics with sticking a few teachers in probation, especially oafs like Hagrid. Nothing ever brought him such joy he reminisced as another lasting silence ensued between them. With a shock that hit him like a cement block, he suddenly realised the intimate proximity in which they were standing. _A metre_ was rather close considering she was a mudblood. Tentatively, he backed away. Noticing this, she rolled her eyes.

Draco hadn't actually been attentive to what he had donned until she had inquired. The House Elves, because of Voldemort's 'gifts' were spending quite sometime cleaning his usual robes. Blood stains were hell to remove. They were drenched with more blood and sweat than he ever intended and he abhorred the stench of blood. It was putrid and disgusting. Whether it was pure or not, he hated the smell of it. What would _her_ blood smell like? Wondered Draco silently, turning to Hermione. Fetid, no less, filthy. Her blood was _dirtier_ than his therefore it must smell worse. _Mudblood. Mud Blood. _He hadn't used that term to her face in a year. It was becoming monotonous really, and Draco Malfoy _was always_ spontaneous and creative. Mocking Potter and Weasley was growing tiresome too. Sure he'd do it just for kicks, however, last year when he was overwrought with the plethora of pressure and working every waking moment, insipid frivolities, such as his favourite past times were forgotten. Evidently, in its absence, insulting Potter and co. in frequency had lost its glamour. Not in a war, such things were unnecessary in a war. Insults weren't, lives were. Along with choices, courage, gall and sacrifice, lives were hallowed.

"For someone who isn't much of a thinker, you sure do think a lot." Observed Hermione, her eyebrow raised. Apparently for the last several minutes she had been attempting to decipher his thoughts. Although _he_ was the _occlumens_, she was not.

"Was that supposed to be some pathetically contrived, back-handed compliment?" He asked, dryly, his tone sardonic. She rolled her eyes.

"Merlin, you're insufferable. It was merely a neutral observation. None of that idiocy you seem to keep pulling out of your ass." She sighed with a hint of exasperation, turning and resettling her gaze towards the horizon.

"Ribald language Granger? How highly uncharacteristic… now that's an observation."

"Shut up. Actually I'm here to ask you if you've considered my offer." She stated in a business-like manner, as if she were about to seal a million-dollar deal.

"Your offer? Oh you mean that attempt to save the world again? Hm, let me think – NO." He said tersely, turning away from her. Her eyes narrowed in irritation, as a heavy sadness slowly leaked into the atmosphere. Stepping forward, she walked around his frame, forcing him to face her.

"Malfoy, please take this seriously." She said quietly. "I believe you can be protected and saved, if you would just make the right choice…" Hermione looked into his eyes, subduing her dislike towards him, trying to read him as silver met chocolate.

"I'm well aware of what is the 'right choice' Granger. Don't lecture me on what's right and what's wrong. I already _know_ the answer. I'm not a Gryffindor who can cast everything aside for the sake of… _goodness_ – or whatever. What irks me is that you still think you save the world." He countered serenely, a hint of despair resonating within his octaves.

"Perhaps, it's _you_ inhibiting yourself. You just don't want to be saved because it's an insult to your pride. You believe that if some 'lowly mudblood' were to come to your aid, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. That's it, isn't it? … You know Malfoy, Gryffindor or not - we're all scared." Hermione stated.

Draco emitted an exaggerated sigh. "Get over this philosophical madness and see the situation for what it is!" Exasperated Draco, rubbing his face with his hands tiredly. She was once more ready to shoot a smart retort, before he fired off. "It's not a matter of whether I _want_ to be saved or not! I _can't_ be saved! Would you get your bleeding head out of those fluffy clouds of righteousness and walk into reality! Stop being a stupid dreamer Granger. _I can't be saved_!"

Hermione had always envisioned herself an ambiguous realist, and to label her a dreamer was bordering insult. She continued to be vigilant to the point of cruel skepticism in terms of fraudulence and the veracity of rumor, especially when it regarded Professor Trelawney, divination and the musings of Luna Lovegood. If there was one thing Hermione Granger was, it was most definitely _NOT _a dreamer.

"No –You _don't want_ to be saved! Only you can save yourself. And the reality - That's precisely my point!" exclaimed Hermione earnestly, begging him to believe. "This _is_ reality! Whether you want to see it or not. You are going to have to make a choice that will change your life. I'm here simply trying to campaign for one of them."

"Jesus Granger, look at the big freaking picture! Did your pretty words save your parents? What the hell did your pretty words accomplish? They're fake. That's it. Is your righteousness going to get you anywhere is this war? No, Granger because this_ is _war, and there are no bloody rules, no bloody morals and no bloody dreams," Draco exasperated coldly, unconsciously placing two fingers on the Dark Mark, saddened by its presence. "The heroic Gryffindor act is losing its valor so desist campaigning for those who evoke your pity, not only will it not win you any popularity points, but I told you before and I'll tell you again. I'm not a house elf."

"You are not a house elf and more importantly, y_ou are not the world_ Malfoy. I'm not standing here trying to save the world, I'm standing here trying to help you save yourself." She stated as a matter-of-factly. "The world does not dedicate itself to you, and you're just a big fish in a small pond who realizes he's a miniscule fish in the ocean full of sharks."

"Nice Granger. Great. Does _wonders_ for my self-esteem. It's absolutely wonderful finally being able to witness the renowned Gryffindor kindness first-hand. Remarkable, Saint-like, actually."

"Malfoy, what I'm trying to say here -"

"I know what you're trying to say, and my answer is…" He faltered and glanced at her beseeching features, her lips twitched upwards reflecting a flickering hope, her eyebrows angled sanguinely and her eyes shone witch a determined resolve he had witnessed before. He had completely prepared to say 'No' if it weren't for a faint nagging little chipmunk of a voice claiming to be his conscience. _Stupid_. Death Eaters were cold, merciless sadists who waited on Voldemort's hand and foot, kissing his feet and groveling at the hem of his robes, jumping like kindergarteners to do his slightest bidding...

_Oh God!_ Thought Draco, temporarily stunned with the glaringly obvious realization. He acknowledged previously what the job description of a Death Eater had entailed, but the waiting on Voldemort's hand and foot was rather… demeaning. Sure, being a subordinate of (as of recently) the most powerful wizard in the world was a pride within itself but…as a pureblood, Draco was not taught to bow down to anyone. It was ludicrous; he was more disgusted with the thought of serving someone else rather than to kill someone. He despaired about the killing people thing (which he discovered he had difficulty grasping), he found he could cast the Cruciatus Curse on someone (and was about to on Potter in the boy's bathroom) but killing was an entire concept within a concept itself.

Before he could stagger back horrified of the true dark side of – well, - the _Dark Side, _Hermione's voice pierced his thoughts. He turned to her, still somewhat stunned, which just gave the impression of, the first ever good-looking retarded fellow. Hermione however, was rather ignorant of this.

"I guess before I 'preach' to you…" Hermione began tentatively, "I owe you an apology."

Draco who had already been undergoing the process of recovering, had been slammed into another wall of shock. "You- What?" He sputtered.

"I'm… sorry." Said Hermione lamely, shifting her eyes to meet his gaze, looking slightly guilty.

"For what unimaginable reason would you be placing your pride on a precipice for?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping back.

"I said I hated you." Said Hermione quietly. Draco looked completely unfazed.

"And…? Truth isn't offensive Granger. It's fact. Cold, hard, unforgiving fact and I really couldn't give a damn if you did or not." Said Draco as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. At times, he feared for the girl's sanity.

"Well, honestly I don't…" She stated, "_hate _you." Draco looked incredulously dubious. "I'm not lying Malfoy, I mean I did before but, that was before – this is now and I know you a little better -"

Draco coughed loudly. Hermione glared.

"-And I may despise you, or perhaps dislike you intensely for your fascination with the Dark Arts -"

"I'd define 'intense dislike' as hate." Draco interjected offhandedly.

"At any rate!" Hermione proceeded loudly, "I don't hate you… although you are making it very hard for me not to. As a matter of fact I sympathize for your-"

Draco held up a silencing hand. "Stop before I throw up, and I know 'sympathizing' is just the decorated frilly way of saying 'You pitiful clown.' I'd rather you not insult me during an apology."

"Oh for heaven's sake! You're too wrapped in your own layers, onion boy! Why do you always make it out that I'm trying to offend you? You are perhaps, the one offending me. I'm not that person Malfoy and I know that you know that." Hermione didn't know if she was correct but she felt as if she were beginning to sift through him - Not understand him completely but even Draco Malfoy was human and as pensive as he was, some traits of his managed to reveal themselves. Very guarded, Draco was. Every time they even skirted the risk of emotional vulnerability, he'd steer them away with an insult towards her. It was becoming rather annoying actually, but Hermione with all her intellect had to admit that it was the only defense mechanism he had ever known. "I'm here trying to offer a peaceful solution even in its smallest measure." Said Hermione, not warmly, but not unkindly either. Her voice was a cold and neutral disguise. "I could come here every night in attempt to kill you and release a plethora of hate and anger through curses, hex you to death and bring your body to the order in triumph – but I'm not, Malfoy. That's not what I'm fighting for."

"Why?" He asked truthfully. He seriously thought she would have killed him by now, if not by releasing him for her grasp when he was hanging, but he insulted her enough by now to incite some kind of desire to murder.

"Because if I did, I'd be no different to what you are. A Death Eater." Said Hermione tersely.

"Oh _Merlin…_"Draco exasperated, realizing tiredly. "…You're being _righteous_."

"It's called active non-violence, Malfoy. Perhaps you should try it." She smirked uncharacteristically and leaned against the wall, taking a peek at him. He looked irritated, and a little confused. Good, thought Hermione, I'm getting to him. "It's a resolution for peace. I'm definitely not saying that I can fix the world and prevent this war, but it's a start – I'm offering just a resolution of peace between teenagers who are exactly like and yet different in every way, boys and girls who have been forced to become adults, yet yearning for the time _we_ have lost."

Draco stared at her for a moment, his face unreadable, his eyes revealing all. Something turned inside of him, he didn't know what, but something happened. _Desperation_, maybe, however it was as though the storm clouds had come to pass and the glory of the sun had come shining through. He didn't 'see the light' per se, but he did see hope. Hermione held out her hand to him. "It only works if both sides are willing…" She whispered softly. Draco remained silent, and slowly his eyes trailed to her outstretched hand. It was a beacon of emanating hope, as he looked upon it in the fading sunlight. There was nothing flawed about it, there seemed to be no consequence, nothing to face, nothing to lose. There was just Hermione and her hand. If there was anything else he wished more in the world than to slip his hand into hers, he could not find it. For a brief, blissful moment he abandoned his fears…

…Like a warm blanket, a calm stillness settled as they stood in the tower hand in hand. Their two hands joined forged an immortal bond, whilst nothing else seemed to exist - not the dying warmth of the setting sun, or the phoenix lament echoing in the distance…Nor time itself - Nothing at all, but simply the bittersweet promise of tomorrow.

A/N: Review? Review! What did you think? I think, it's going to be a habit now that I'll update every Mondays…


	5. Trustworthy

**A/N:** I'm a week late, I know. I'm sorry…life had just been very stressful lately. This is part…5? I believe? Enjoy hopefully. Oh, and notice my pathetic attempt at comedy during this chappie.

Disclaimer: Insert some form of disclaimer here.

"Hermione?" Asked Harry, as he peered over a map given to him by Kingsley that pinpointed recent Death Eater pursuits.

"Yes Harry?" She asked, looking up from a book.

"Why do you go to Hogwarts?"

Hermione remained quiet for a moment. "I have my own battles to fight. There are just some things that I need to do." She breathed finally, hoping the answer was enough and evidently it seemed to suffice. Harry, after a lingering gaze, returned to the map. Hermione's eyes flickered back towards her reading as she contemplated revealing to Harry her mission with Malfoy. Would he explode, and tell her she was an idiot for not killing Malfoy on the spot? Or would he call her naïve for believing a boy like Malfoy could change? "…Harry?"

"Yeah…?"

"…Never mind."

---

"Most of the time I ask myself, _what the hell am I doing here?"_ Muttered Draco as he seated himself exasperatedly into a chair of the Astronomy Tower.

"You're here because you've been subconsciously searching for a better option in which to live the remainder of what you hope to be a long life - and you've finally just acknowledged it." Said Hermione in her usual succinct, matter-of-fact way as she poked an eye into an abandoned telescope and musingly directed it towards Venus. Draco shot her a glare. She could be a shrink if she wanted to.

"Just so I clear things before you further indulge in any kind of insinuation," Draco spat, "I am _not_ here because I particularly _enjoy_ your company. I'm here because I'm tired of this stupid world and I reckon both sides should go fuck themselves."

"If only there were enough dildos in the world." Muttered Hermione absent-mindedly as she rolled her eyes. Her hand flew to her mouth as she accidentally jabbed herself in the eye with the telescope, realising what she had just said. Draco's head snapped to her, a look of shock and extreme amusement playing across his features as his muscles began to ache as he refrained from laughing. Flushing red, she gasped and cleared her throat. "I mean, I understand… as you _so mildly_ phrased it."

"I'm not here to be your friend." Said Draco firmly, his smile fading.

"Did I once ever give you any hint that I wanted to be yours?" Countered Hermione, as she removed her eye from the telescope to look at him. "We need to find an answer for your – sorry – _our_ predicament so this war can end."

"Well from where I'm standing Granger, your ass seems to be a lot safer than mine and the fate of this war does not stand on shoulders of a bunch of adolescents."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a queer look. "_Your_ ass is a lot safer than Harry's at the moment and _he's_ an adolescent."

Draco opened his mouth to remark, and then closed it. "You have no right to talk about my ass." He snapped lamely upon finding no argument to return with a rebuttal.

"You have no right to talk about mine either."

"Agreed."

Hermione pursed her lips and realized she needed to establish some kind of trust with him if she was going to get anywhere with this stubborn mule. Draco Malfoy would be very useful if he were to succumb to her side, the information he held and what he could tell would aid them greatly. But that's not the only reason why she wanted to convert him. If saving as many as people as possible included him, then, greater was the reward. Taking a deep breath, she faced him.

"Malfoy do you trust me?" She asked him as simply and as plainly as she could. He merely stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Do _you_ trust me?" He whispered. She was noble Gryffindor Queen, liege and master to all things righteous and just, _how could _he not trust her? But then again… there were always 'buts.' And he, she had no reason to trust him, just suspicion in her eyes which revealed enough.

Instantly, she knew, it was too soon to be asking such a question. And yet…"Yes." The word seemed to have tumbled out of her mouth without her knowledge.

He raised an eyebrow. As a trained Occlumens, _some _knowledge of legilimency was required. The mouth lies, eyes don't. "Is that so?"

"Yes it is." Hermione repeated, knowing her trust could be used as a weapon against her if Draco even thought about stepping back into the darkness. That caused some suspicion, but not enough to avert her from her cause. Draco blinked, he saw sincerity.

"You are aware of who I am and what I can do. You are aware I am well within the power to betray you." Said Draco, lowering his tone to a serious drone, one he only used when dealing with the Dark Lord. Draco suddenly looked irritable. "How can you just give it away so easily?"

"I'm aware." Said Hermione simply.

Sincerity. He saw it once more. "My trust is not easily given…" He muttered softly. "I can't just pack up my bags and leave… you can't even imagine what they'll do to me if they find out…"

"I know you may need some…time" she nodded knowing full well that if she trusted him, a part of her will always be wary of any possibility that, that trust could be broken. "I…I understand." She had hoped that her words would placate him, yet she did not expect them to do the antithesis.

"How can you know?" He flared defensively. "How can you trust me? What will Potter say? What will Weasel say? Why do you have to be so goddamn naïve, Granger?" His voice rose and rose on it's own accord. She didn't have a clue about his life, she didn't understand. Bloody know-it-all, she _didn't_ know a bloody thing. "Why? For fuck's sake answer me! You can't even begin to understand -"

"I'm not pretending to dammit! Malfoy!" Yelled Hermione, shocked at his outburst as well as her own. "I know I can't completely understand" Tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. "I know I don't know what it's like, I know I haven't seen the things you've seen, I know dammit. I know! I know I may be naïve enough to trust you. But I'm doing this because you come here, you meet me here and for once in you're life you're sincere. You'll never be one of them, you'll never be. I don't think you would commit to it, you're not that person Malfoy and if I'm too bloody naïve to be stupid enough to trust you then I'll be naïve. I see an opportunity for you Malfoy to save yourself, I'm doing the best I can do and if you can't handle the fact that for once you're going to have to face them head on -"

"I can't face them head on! I'm not a Bloody Gryffindor! I'm not Harry Potter and I'm fucking SCARED!" He yelled, advancing on her so fast, he was on to her before she could even react. It was inconceivable that just a few moments ago they were laughing together. "Don't you see Granger?" He said more quietly now, collapsing into a chair, a sob in his voice. "I have to be one of them. I have to be. You can't trust me knowing that sooner or later I'll betray that trust. It's ignorant and idiotic and you know it. _I know _what's the right thing to do and _I know_ if I want a slice of salvation I have to do it... It's just… if I'm not a Death Eater…if I'm not one of them…then everything I've ever known, everything I've ever done, _everything_ would be in vain …and I don't know if I'd ever be able to live with that."

There was so much pain in his voice that Hermione wasn't even able to respond. It almost broke her heart hearing him. There he was, wishing to forsake everything he had ever known, everything he had ever believed in for a chance at doing something right. There he was, a broken and battered child staring at her with imploring grey eyes, begging her to understand, yet knowing she never would. No pretense, no lies, just a lonely boy, innocence gleaning through like a fading light beneath a cracked mask. It was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him. It was broken and it was beautiful.

---

"You don't understand…" He breathed, breaking an hour-long silence. They had sat there in the Astronomy Tower watching the stars and the moonrise for what could have been hours, yet within a comfortable silence after Draco's sudden outburst. Hermione didn't have a clue on how to respond, neither could she produce anything appropriate to say, neither of them could.

"Then help me to…" She whispered just as softly.

"I know what last year meant to them." He said coldly. "I know last year was a punishment to my father because he failed to retrieve the prophecy. He fucking _broke_ the goddamn thing. I know I was used as a tool, it's stupid how I just figured that out." He didn't dare meet her gaze. Instead he stared pointedly at the stars. His voice was dry and hollow and devoid of all emotion.

"So you know about the Department of Mysteries then?" Asked Hermione, turning to him somewhat surprised.

"Of course I do. I'm not stupid you know. I know father failed and now he's rotting in that godforsaken prison; and just to put the icing on the cake they dragged me into it. Put me up against Dumbledore, they all knew I couldn't do it, but they made me do it anyway. Just for kicks, you know?" He laughed bitterly as if his joke were in the least bit funny, yet Hermione didn't say a thing. "It's like David against what's-his-name and his whole fucking family. They knew I couldn't do it from the beginning, they all expected me to die in the process. But you know me. I had been entrusted with a task from the _Dark Lord_! I couldn't miss a chance at glory like that! I was sixteen, I was special, I was important…" Draco paused as a dark expression had suddenly shadowed his features. "And then," he gulped, "And then I held my wand, I held that wand against him. I held his life in my hands and I needed to prove them wrong, I needed to prove I could do it…" He paused once more and exhaled deeply. "And then that bastard just had to – he just had to -" he screwed his eyes shut in attempt to wall away the memory.

"You're not a killer Malfoy…" Said Hermione quietly.

"Shut up." He said sharply. "That's exactly what he said."

"And he meant it."

"Don't tell me what I am and what I'm not! I -" Draco looked to her then and realized, he was either lying to her or to himself, perhaps even both.

Draco swallowed levelly. "It was at that moment in the Tower that I realized…" He mumbled something that Hermione strained to hear, and could only barely as though it were as soft as the wind. "…I wasn't going to get the glory…this wasn't the power I had imagined…"

"Malfoy…"

"Don't you get it? Since that complete and utter failure, I have to prove myself. I have to prove I'm worthy enough to be with in his ranks, I have to rectify the mistakes of my father and mine!" Draco exasperated, hanging his head in his hands.

"No, you don't have to." Said Hermione, wanting to reach out to him. Not knowing what to do, she dropped her hand back to her side.

"Yes! _Yes I do!_" He said to the floor in a strained voice. "If I don't, then I'll get the kiss."

"The kiss? The dementor's kiss?" Hermione blurted, horrified. "But-But they can't, they won't-"

"They will." Interjected flatly, annoyed at her naivety.

Hermione chewed her lip, worriedly. For once, not knowing what to do, she tentatively took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. He looked to her slowly, where she gave him the quivering lip of a wavering smile, and he wondered if he was alas going insane.

**A/N:** Review? Review? Review? I've had a crap week, does anyone want to, out of sheer benevolence and goodness of their hearts, give me a review and make my week?


	6. Despondent

I haven't updated in a month or so, due to school, procrastination, damned writers blocks and so forth. I'm really sorry ( Thanks to those who reviewed, I read them and will work on a few things mentioned. But I really need to get this up before the last book is released because I don't want this to be rendered an AU just yet. I realised that there were some parts in the last couple of chapters that I did forget to credit, because like the infamous Cassandra Clare I gather quotes and stuff, but I want to credit them here:

"You're too wrapped up in your won layers onion boy!" - donkey, Shrek 1

"It's like David and what's-his-name and his whole f-cking family" - Erin Brokovich

I haven't exactly proof read any part of this and quickly tried to finish this… gah I'm so busy but anyhoo, what can I do? I love to write - so here's a little bit of last chapter to see where we left off:

"_Hermione chewed her lip, worriedly. For once, not knowing what to do, she tentatively took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. He looked to her slowly, where she gave him the quivering lip of a wavering smile, and he wondered if he was at last going insane."_

----- He was Saved – Part 6

"Excuse me Mrs Weasley?" Asked Hermione quietly, discreetly pulling her aside.

"Yes, dear?" Said Mrs Weasley strangely, she and Hermione were on very warm and friendly terms however, it was a rare occasion when she ever sought any help. "What is it? Is it about your parents? Because dear, I'll always be here if you need me." She smiled genially.

"No, no its not about that" she said quickly before the thought of her parent's condition would distract her. "I wanted to ask your opinion on something." Mrs Weasley remained silent and allowed her to continue. Hermione paused, although the older woman's appearance was warm, she had lost a quite a bit of weight and a dark tinge began to form around her eyes. Mrs Weasley patted a seat beside her and Hermione sat down. "Mrs, Weasley" she began hesitantly, "Do you believe people have the ability to change? And I mean, really, really change? Like, say he's a Death Eater and he turned to our side?"

"Why are you asking me this?" She asked carefully. Both of them knew, and Hermione certainly knew that it was Snape who still lingered in their minds. He fooled Dumbledore, and if you can fool Dumbledore, you can fool anyone.

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably, a seed of doubt being sewn at the very thought of Snape. "I-I don't whether I'm in the right in trusting a certain individual, and I'm afraid I might just be setting myself up for betrayal."

Mrs Weasley grasped her hand. "Look inside your heart. It will tell you what to do, and go with your instincts. A woman's intuition is by far her greatest asset, you know." She smiled, yet Hermione still looked troubled.

"I told him I trusted him, but I'm not so sure."

"Then gain his trust, if he allows himself to trust you then I'm sure you can allow yourself to trust him back. Just be careful okay? You don't know who to trust these days with the final battle brewing so soon…" Said Mrs Weasley slowly.

"Thank you Mrs Weasley." Hermione nodded.

"Just be careful, keep your wits about you and don't fall into any traps." She warned, "I'm flattered that you come to me, second to your mother…it's a shame she can't be here with us. I do hope they will turn out splendid…Well, I must get dinner started." And with that, she was off, leaving Hermione alone to ponder in her pool of thoughts.

--

"Do you believe in God, Granger?" Asked Draco as they sat together a few nights afterwards.

Hermione remained silent for a moment. "I don't know. All I know is that there is something greater out there. Something beyond our comprehension, something beyond magic. I know that something must have created this, and us. There has to be something there right?"

Draco nodded. "Why do think God did this to us?"

Hermione knew exactly what he was referring to: the war. "God didn't do this Draco, we did." He pondered this as they soon lapsed into silence. Hermione began to wonder if sitting here was where she belonged, remembering Mrs. Weasley's words, but she knew Draco now needed her help more than anyone and if sitting here with him was enough support and comfort she could give, so be it then.

"Do you think God will forgive me?" Draco asked softly, eyeing the Dark Mark burned on his arm. Hermione broke out of her reverie and looked to him, he was grinning, but she found his eyes glazed and shining. Hermione blinked to stop her own eyes from watering, as she became overwhelmed with sympathy.

"Right now Malfoy, I don't know if God will forgive any of us at all." She said that neither coldly nor kindly. Her voice was hard and filled with bitter guilt and pity for them all. He nodded, accepting that this was their fate. This was war. This was the way it was. Hermione bit her lip, trying to think of something distracting, or happier. "Do you think you'll ever miss this place?" She asked him, looking around the room, smiling slightly at the rough texture of Hogwarts' stonewalls.

Draco trailed her gaze and sighed heavily. "I don't know if I ever did like this place, don't know if I've ever shown it. But I did spend the best and perhaps the last years of my life here…here, where memories were made."

"I want to go to the Library." Hermione stated as she stood. Draco raised an eyebrow and tried really hard to quell the need to roll his eyes. "For old times' sake, you know?" She made her way to the door. "Wanna come?"

"Do I have a choice?" He asked dryly.

"You always have a choice, Malfoy." Said Hermione. Her words, without meaning to, touched him in a way. Without a thought she swept out the door and down the stairs, before she heard his pair of light footsteps follow after her.

Draco Malfoy had lived with pain all his life. Pain of loneliness, pain of helplessness, the pain that usually came hand-in-hand with the pressure of expectation. These pains had for years constricted his heart, last year choking him like a Boa Constrictor caging it's prey. However, in these few insipid moments where they walked in a comfortable silence with Hermione towards the Library, these pains, had…loosened. Somehow. Maybe it was because he was beginning to realize, albeit slowly, that he did always have a choice.

They pried open the doors of the Library and stepped in as the smell of old and musty books wafted to their nostrils. A smell Hermione simply loved. She hurried inside, breathed in the musty air and sighed. Draco held back and watched her cautiously, eerily quiet for a moment.

"Malfoy? What is it?" Asked Hermione, as she turned to him.

"You… You haven't told anyone, have you? About this, these meetings?" He asked quietly, a slight quiver in his voice.

"No." She answered him. "But I have been tempted to."

"Good. Then, just don't."

"Why?"

He didn't give her an answer, and turned away. He was meant to hate her wasn't he? Why did he reach for her hand when she had offered it? Was he that desperate for a solution that he'd even release his pride and accept help from a lowly Mudblood? Draco clenched his fists furiously. He had never been so confused, so angry and so… shaken. And he hated it. He hated not being control of his life, not knowing anything. Everything he had ever known had been ripped out from underneath him the day he saw Hermione, oddly in the same way his life had been irrevocably destroyed when he was given the task to kill Dumbledore. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He was meant to be proud of his accomplishment. A Death Eater at the age of seventeen. It was unheard of, seeing as he was the first. And yet he wasn't proud, he wasn't disgusted with her presence. Those were the feelings he was meant to be feeling, yet he was tired of feeling them. He didn't _wan_t to feel it anymore, something must be wrong with him.

But he had a choice to feel anyway he wanted. Didn't he?

"… Malfoy? Draco…? Draco?"

His head snapped up with a jerk, he hadn't realized that Hermione had been calling his name for the past five minutes. "What?"

"You looked… angry… and confused. Are you sure you're alright?" Her voice was soft and gentle, her brow furrowed with a mild concern. He waved his hand as a vague movement to brush it off.

"I'm fine." He muttered darkly. "Go immerse yourself." He said indicating to the whole Library of books before them as he sat in a chair and remained silently pensive. It would have been worrisome to Hermione if she hadn't already gallivanted off into a maze of shelves deep enough for her to become lost, had she not practically lived inside these walls for the past six years.

She returned fifteen minutes later, a cheerful expression brightening her features before it quickly faded and died. Draco was keeled over on the floor, his breathing ragged and audible. Horror and realization dawned on her, as she knew exactly what was happening. Hermione dropped her books on a nearby table and hastily ran to his side.

"Malfoy," she whispered hurriedly. "Come on, you don't have to stay. You can go…" It hurt her to see him in such pain, almost as though she could feel it in her chest. "Come Malfoy." She helped him up as his deathly clutch on his left arm had left his knuckles white. "J-Just be careful okay?" Draco nodded painfully, and managed to open his eyes to cast her a brief glance and a murmured 'thanks' before he flew out the door. She gazed at the empty doorframe after him with a face full of worry. She hated to see him go and be evil elsewhere, yet she didn't have the heart to beg him to stay and endure such pain.

Draco entered the bleak and echoing hallway, the sound of his footsteps ricocheting of the walls. He set his lips in a firm, hard line and walked as swiftly as he could. Surreptitiously, he grasped his arm in an attempt to ease the burning pain. It had never been this bad. Maybe, just maybe, The Dark Lord had found a new way to torture him. Upon reaching his destination, he conjured his mask, lifted his hood and steeled himself to perform vigilant occlumency, as he knew His Lord would pry.

He entered the chamber just as others did and shivered. They arranged themselves in a circle around, where a whimpering girl lay huddled in the fetal position. They eyed her like vultures circling their prey. All Draco could do was gulp and hope this had nothing to do with him. The Dark Lord appeared and they all bowed, the room still with a deafening silence. Only the frightened gasps and ragged breathing of the teenage girl could be heard. The Dark Lord smiled, for lack of a better word. In other words, he showed his teeth, in some form of menacing and sadistic pleasure.

"It seems we have a mudblood in our midst…" He cackled softly. The others nodded and agreed with smiles and murmurs of delight. Draco remained silent and berated himself, trying to remain calm. "Bella found her in a small town not far away, our next target brimming with worthless muggles. I believe we'll have much fun with her. Wouldn't you agree Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord" He replied automatically, in a cool, calm voice that betrayed completely what he was feeling inside. _Oh God_, he thought, _don't pick me, please don't -_

"Draco," The Dark Lord began, he was smiling again, which was never a good sign. "Seeing as you are our newest member, care to do the honors?" The others smiled and egged him on. They had passed him the power.

Draco thought he was going to hurl. "Yes, my Lord." He repeated and stepped towards the middle of the circle. It was like an outer-body experience, as though he were watching himself, as he extracted his wand and loomed over her. Only she was close enough to tell that his hand was shaking ever so slightly. Draco watched himself aim his wand at her, trying to ignore her cries and pleas of mercy, trying to ignore her whimpering and the tears spilling across her cheeks. For a brief moment, his silver eyes met hers, brown, cinnamon and gold. Her eyes, much like another muggle-born he knew. Deaf to her pleas and blind to her eyes, blocking out the pain, he closed his eyes and muttered the curse that would leave an _unforgivable_ stain on his soul forever.

"Crucio."

--

Draco barely survived the flight back to the Astronomy Tower. It was some time afterwards, exactly how long afterwards, he couldn't tell. All he knew that time chose to linger agonizingly, where events were neither quick nor easy, but rather torturous. He hurtled through the gaping Astronomy Tower window and crashed inside, too distraught to care. With a last burst of energy he dared concern himself with, he flung himself onto the window ledge and gripped it desperately and vomited. He collapsed and curled himself into a tight, protective ball, shaking.

He sat there for a few minutes, before the door hurled open and in ran Hermione who crouched beside him. "I saw you fly back in from the Library window, you looked injured when I saw you come in. You look dreadful! What happened?"

Quivering, he raised his head from his knees and stared at her. She gasped, as she witnessed nothing but pain in his silver eyes. _Pain_. With the fragile voice of a child he whispered to her. "I'm one of them now." He sobbed. "I really am, one of them."

It was the first time she had ever seen him cry.

Her world suddenly changed, and she really saw him, right through to the core. Gently she sat beside him. "Speak to me. What happened?" She tried as softly as she could.

"I'm one of them." He repeated, raising his eyes to eye-level, and stared at them in horror. "I am one of them." A terrified whisper. It was then, that she noticed the smears of blood on his hands and the faint stench of vomit on his breath. Her eyes widened with fear.

"Malfoy…" she gulped slowly. "What did you do?"

"I still hear her screaming…" Said Draco, his voice strained. His eyes suddenly glazed over. "I tortured her." He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. She wasn't meant to see him cry. He hated people seeing him cry. "I tortured her and… and then-" He faltered and choked on a heaving sob. Blood and tears leaked across his cheeks while he tried to regain his breath. "They made me do it. I…I… I tortured her while they laughed and smiled and jeered merrily. I tortured her again, and again and again, each time they made me do it more gruesome, 'more blood Draco! More blood!'…and just when I couldn't take it anymore she…"

Hermione began to cry. She wanted to take this pain away from him, to stop this from happening. She wanted to help him. Yet she just didn't know how. Hermione touched his arm and grasped it firmly. A tactile display of support, and he urged on.

"…Then she suddenly stopped screaming, stopped crying, stopped pleading. She lay there and they sneered at her. Said she was too weak, said she was meant to last longer…"

Hermione closed her eyes, as she began to realize with mortification, just what he was saying. She hoped he wouldn't say it. She didn't want him to confirm it. It was just too painful.

"I killed her, Granger. I killed her."

And yet he did.

"I still hear her. I hear her cries and her screams." He began to bash his own head with palms of his hands in attempt to rid himself of the last memory of her voice. "And now the screaming is not just my own…it's hers too." He looked at her and gazed straight into her teary eyes. "She stared at me with those cinnamon eyes. Your eyes. And they asked me Why? Why? _Why?_"

"Malfoy…" Hermione began.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!" He yelled, standing and scampering away from her. "Why Mudblood!?"

"Why, what?" She breathed.

"Why do I feel this way?" He screamed at her. "I'm not meant to be feeling like this! She was a mudblood! She's not human! She's _not meant_ to be human! And yet, why? Why do I feel… feel…"?

"Guilt?" Hermione supplied quietly.

Draco collapsed to the floor and muttered in defeat. "Yes." His face was then filled with such conviction as though he wanted to voice something incredibly important, however what emitted his mouth was cacophony of confusion. "But how can't she be human? If you're not human it makes it easier to kill you. If you were not human then I wouldn't be feeling guilt. SO WHY THE HELL AM I FEELING THIS WAY?"

"Because _I am _human Malfoy, and she was human. We all are." Said Hermione tentatively.

"But…"

"No Draco." Hermione interjected firmly purposely using his first name, wiping away her tears. "We're human. I'm human, you're human, and she was human, just like its human to feel guilt."

"Then is The Dark Lord human too?" Draco snapped. "Because he likes it, you know. He likes breaking me. He's tortured me before, but not like this…never like this. He knows what this does to me. He knew I would feel this way. I know it. He expects me to go crazy with guilt, doesn't he? But he doesn't feel any guilt at all."

"…Voldemort -"

"_Don't say his name!" _

"I don't think You-know-who," she rephrased, "was really human to begin with, if he wants to subject his soul to such mutilation. Don't you see Draco? You have a soul, you have a conscience and compassion… _he_ doesn't."

Draco was no longer crying; instead his pale visage was flushed pink with anger. "But I'm _not meant_ to feel those things for mudbloods." He spat through gritted teeth. Hermione stared at him. She had never seen his foundations so shaken.

"You're not a killer Draco."

"WOULD YOU STOP SAYING THAT?"

"You know it's true."

"I just killed someone tonight. I have her blood on my hands…" Draco stopped, fearing he would cry again. "I just… Granger - I don't know what to do…"

She didn't say anything to him then. How could she? What do you say to someone who was suffering murderer's guilt? She couldn't say it was all right, because it was a lie. Even if she did say it, he knew it was a pitiful fib as much as she did. Saying such things would only pour salt on an open wound. All she could do was the most Gryffindor thing to do: trust her instincts. She stepped to him tentatively and hesitated, reaching her arms up around him. He flinched at her touch at first, and remained rigid as he took as much effort to dry his tears, and yet despite his efforts they wouldn't cease their compromising cascade.

Hermione held him close, his tears staining through the material of her white shirt. She could feel his despair and confusion, his guilt and his grief. He grieved for _her_, although without knowing who she was.

"I ended her. She was meant to be someone I shouldn't care about…" He sobbed, his voice raw with desperation. "Why do I care about…why do I feel guilty? I _killed_ someone…I…"

"Hold me tight Draco, hold tight." She instructed quickly, sensing that this would surely be the deconstruction of his sanity. He hugged her fiercely, clinging onto the only thing he had, because he knew he was losing his mind…and his heart.

She held him close, for an indiscernible amount of time, until his ramblings had ceased, his sobs had dried and his tears had limited themselves to a slow, mourning trickle. Her warmth comforted Draco. Her presence didn't heal the pain, but to the very least he didn't feel as alone. "You can't want this life, Draco." Hermione told him. "If you accept your life as it is, this is what it will be everyday…eventually. Maybe be not torture of the body, but of the mind. You'd live in fear, guilt, sorrow… and I don't want that for you." Hermione took a nervous breath. "Come Draco, make the right choice…"

He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, a brief yet awkward silence ensued between them.

A moment's hesitation, then,

"…Okay."

It was muffled and uncertain and all she needed to hear.

The door burst open, and Hermione and Draco sprang apart.

Hermione gulped nervously.

Tonks and Lupin.

A/N: A little cliffhanger for ya. There are some parts in this that I'm seriously not satisfied with but, I'll go over it once more after its finished… review?


	7. Thankful

Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the plot. JK has that right. (grumbles)

A/N: It's been a few weeks since the last update, I'm sorry. But I have written something at a decent length, I'm a little happy about that. I hope you are too. The last chapter ended on a little cliff hanger, so I'll just add a bit of the last chapter to see where we left off. I hope you enjoy!

**He was Saved – Part Seven**

_He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, a brief yet awkward silence ensued between them. _

_A moment's hesitation, then, _

"…_Okay."_

_It was muffled and uncertain and all she needed to hear. _

_The door burst open, and Hermione and Draco sprang apart. _

_Hermione gulped nervously. _

_Tonks and Lupin. _

"Hermione, you've been here for hours, what are you - " Tonks cried, followed by Lupin. Her eyes (which were now a shocking shade of electric blue) immediately found Draco, and narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?" She snapped, whipping out her wand.

"Why, hello cousin." He replied coldly, a completely different persona from the despondent wreck a few moments ago. He schooled his face into an arrogant, unfeeling mask as he extracted his own hawthorn wand.

Upon seeing this, Lupin pointed his own wand at him. "Hermione," He began "Did he hurt you?"

It was then that she instantly realised how this situation appeared to anyone who would have just walked through the door. Her eyes were puffy from tears, they had just sprung apart and there was blood on his hands. Not to mention, he was in his Death Eater robes, which smelled like blood too. She cleared her throat nervously. "…This isn't what it looks like."

"What's he doing here?" Demanded Tonks sharply, her eyes never removing themselves from Draco's. In response, Hermione racked her brain for any rational explanation.

"Please, everyone" She begged, being the only one who remained wandless, "Let's calm down. Tonks, he's here with me."

"Come Hermione we'll discuss this later." Said Lupin cautiously extending a hand.

"In case you didn't know Hermione, he's a Death Eater!" Said Tonks darkly, and before Hermione could respond, she shouted "Stupefy!"

"NO!" Gasped Hermione, but Draco's reflexes were quick.

"Protego!" In a dark flash, he grabbed his broom and flew out the window.

"Damn!" Cursed Tonks. "Hermione! What the hell was that?" Tonks, who was usually very friendly with Hermione, was looking quite livid and furious at the girl. Remus looked to her with an odd amount of insight.

"Not here" He said quietly, stowing his wand away. "We'll discuss this at the Headquarters."

"Hermione what -" Tonks ploughed on, ignoring him.

"At the Headquarters!" Lupin interjected loudly as he cast a dangerous look towards Tonks. "Everyone else will need to know what's going on here as well." Tonks nodded begrudgingly and Hermione cast her eyes downwards and remained silent. "Very well then." Lupin concluded apparating away as he gave the gaping window a dark look.

They arrived at the Headquarters not a moment later before Tonks stormed angrily through the threshold, knocking over the umbrella stand and sending Sirius' mother into a fit of screeches. Upon hearing this, Lupin swore under his breath and strode hastily inside, muttering "I'll silence her" which left a trembling Hermione to step hesitantly into the foyer and follow Tonks' raging stomp down into the kitchen. To Tonks' convenience and Hermione's dismay, everyone was seated at the table amidst enjoying one of Mrs. Weasley's scrumptious dinners. However, due to Tonks' appearance and the screams emitting from upstairs, by the time Hermione walked in, everyone rounded to her.

"Hermione, you'd better do some fast talking!" Said Tonks as she placed her hands on her hips and shocked her with a piercing look of her electric blue eyes.

The screams suddenly silenced, and Lupin walked in. "Yes Hermione, you do have much to explain." He said as he entered.

"What's this about Remus?" Asked Mr. Weasley, watching them pointedly from his glasses. Hermione looked to her former professor fearfully, before her gaze sought Harry, Ron and Ginny's. Lupin gave Hermione a grave yet unreadable expression, before he answered,

"I don't exactly know, you see -"

"We found her in the company of Malfoy!" Blurted Tonks, accusingly.

"WHAT?" Coughed Mrs. Weasley.

"Where is he?!" Cried Harry.

"We'll kill him!" Roared Ron.

"Did he hurt you?" Exclaimed the twins.

"'ze blond boy? 'Ze one with 'ze beautiful 'airs?"

"Shut up Fleur," Said five voices automatically.

"She was with Draco." Replied Lupin as he looked to Hermione for confirmation, "… voluntarily."

"I – _what?"_ Sputtered Harry.

Hermione released a long, drawn breath as she gathered her wits and nodded.

"Hermione, how could you!?" Cried Ron, subconsciously brandishing his fork at her, "What were you doing with him, after what he did to Dumbledore?"

Lupin raised a silencing hand to settle them and invited them all to sit. He turned to Hermione. "As much as I highly disapprove, and am very disappointed in you Hermione, for your serious lack of judgment, I do believe you have some explanation for all this." Said Lupin with a polite yet ominous calm that made Hermione wish he'd yelled at her instead.

"I -" Hermione began, without knowing what to say, "It's the truth. I've been meeting Malfoy at Hogwarts."

"And why in Merlin's name would you do that?" Snapped Harry, who rose from his chair so fast, it toppled onto the floor with a rumbling 'plonk'.

"Because he needs help, Harry," Said Hermione quietly, her eyes downcast.

"What he needs is to die, that's what he needs!" Yelled Ron.

"No, he wants to come to our side! He doesn't want to be a Death Eater!" Hermione pleaded earnestly. However, judging by the looks of everyone else in the room, Hermione would surely be sent off to St. Mungos in the morning.

"Hermione, Malfoy's _always_ wanted to be a Death Eater.," Said Harry, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You should know that."

"Not anymore." She replied, hating the fact that she sounded like a petulant child. "I've been spending time with him, talking to him and he wants to - well, switch sides." Oh how that sounded so unbelievably simple.

"Hermione," Began Mr. Weasley slowly, "You can't honestly believe that Draco Malfoy, with everything that's going for or against him would want to defect to the Order?"

"I do and I know it. Draco doesn't want his life anymore; he doesn't want to be a Death Eater anymore." Hermione told him as she took a step towards the rest of them. An angry beast within her began rearing its head as the feisty side Hermione began to wake to argue her point.

"Oh so he's Draco now?" Snapped Ron accusingly.

"You don't fancy him do you?" Harry said, with more of a threat than a question.

"_What?__ Harry! _For Heaven's sake! It's nothing like that!" Hermione denied angrily.

"Well" Said Tonks, "We can't just offer him…offer him… "She trailed off, applying strange gestures as she tried to grasp for the word. "We can't just offer him… political asylum!"

"It's absurd." Mrs. Weasley added.

"Precisely," Agreed Tonks.

"But-But there must be something we can do," Said Hermione earnestly. Hermione was never one to beg, however she was drawing close to it.

"Hermione, you can't trust him. Look at him, look at Snape!"

"What would Dumbledore do?" Hermione replied.

They all silenced immediately.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, and pushed up his glasses. "Although it may be true that Dumbledore might aid this boy, we must think of what has occurred. He trusted Snape…and we all know what happened."

"Mr. Weasley, forgive me but Draco Malfoy is not by any means Professor Snape!"

Ron scoffed at this.

"I trust him, Harry, Ron, everyone… You trust my judgment don't you? You trust me and I trust him." Said Hermione.

"Hermione, do not invest your trust in a Death Eater!" Cried Mrs. Weasley, "He's the one you asked me about before, isn't he?"

'Yes, he was."

"Hermione, if I had known that it was he in which you were referring to I would have never offered you that advice!" She advanced on her quickly, "Hermione don't be trapped by his illusions, for all we know he could be as dangerous as his father."

"I know him a lot better than any of you do and I_ know_ that he isn't as dangerous as his father. Why is it that when he's as soon as he's labeled as a Death Eater you immediately cast fair judgment aside? He's an idiot for joining them, yes I understand that, but imagine how he has lived." Hermione's voice was reaching a dangerously high level, rivaling a shriek worthy of Pansy Parkinson. Taking deep breaths, she made an effort to calm herself down. "Since birth this has been ingrained in his mind. He's done terrible things in his life, he's been absolutely horrible and he's been punished for it. Yet when he grows a conscience and displays a shred of moral decency, you're going to punish him for that too? Because that's what we're all going to do if we sit here and do nothing – we condemn him to Voldemort. It doesn't matter what he deserves -" She cast a sharp look to Harry and Ron "- He's a human being and every human being deserves a chance at redemption."

"Malfoy doesn't deserve shit!" Roared Ron.

"Hermione -" began Tonks in protest, however Lupin stopped her.

"Everyone, please be silent." Lupin stepped towards Hermione and placed a comforting hand around her shoulder. "I believe Hermione." He announced. Arthur Weasley nodded.

"As do I"

"I believe that under extremely strict and very, very controlled conditions we may be able to, perhaps question the boy, see if he can provide us with some information in return we offer him whatever help we can." Said Lupin slowly, trying to configure the situation in his head himself.

"What, you mean like a double-agent?" Asked Tonks dubiously.

"No, not entirely," Replied Lupin, "But Draco Malfoy does need to prove himself trustworthy. He shall do that by telling us everything we need to know. He's been initiated into Voldemort's inner-circle, I assure you he will know_ something_." He looked around to them. "Do any of you object?"

"No…" Said Mrs. Weasley stiffly, "But these must be extremely controlled conditions, we control everything. We do everything, he doesn't leave our sight, he doesn't say a word and he doesn't contact anyone unless instructed to do so."

Lupin nodded in assent, "Very well."

"Are we allowed to curse him? You know, use any Unforgivables to get information out of him? Shove Veritaserum down his throat," Piped Ron eagerly whilst Harry shook his head in disbelief at the density of his best-friend's skull.

"Er… no Ron," Replied Tonks, who had finally succumbed to their collective agreement, "Number one, there's no point in cursing him, number two Unforgivables are illegal and number three Malfoy needs to prove his allegiance by _willingly_ supplying us with information. If we shove Veritaserum down his throat then that's exactly the same as capturing a random Death Eater off the street and interrogating him."

"Oh…" Muttered Ron who looked somewhat crestfallen, "But there is a point in cursing him – he's an evil git, that's reason enough," he added under his breath so only Harry could hear him. As Harry suppressed a smile, Hermione was finding it difficult to suppress her tears as she hugged her former professor.

"Thank you Professor! Thank you Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Harry, Ron!" Hermione came around and hugged them all.

"And what are we?" Asked Fred looking offended.

"Random hobos dining in?" Finished George, as equally insulted at the lack of attention they were receiving. Bill chuckled as Fleur patted the twins on the back.

"Eetz alright. Veelas were born to entertain. We're lovairs not fighters." She smiled and kissed Bill's scarred cheek. "Come, I'm tired of all theez seriousness, 'ze food will be cold."

"She's right," Said Mrs. Weasley briskly, "Remus, Hermione, Nymphadora you haven't eaten yet. Come, I'll get you a plate."

The night had progressed rather pleasantly afterwards, to Hermione's great relief. She had missed enjoying dinner with everyone amidst, missions, attacks, plans and of course Draco Malfoy. She therefore was delighted to be given the opportunity to relish this time immensely. The only hair in her soup was the one George left in as a small joke and the fact that she was wondering with a small stone in her stomach, what Draco's reaction to this decision would be. It would be far too difficult if he'd decline the reluctant and apprehensive hand extended by The Order. She couldn't imagine the possibilities if Draco would rather have this any other way. Sighing, she picked the hair out of what remained of a delicious corn and chicken soup and thought of the upcoming events to take place in the next few days. With the Order's wary confirmation and permission, she was permitted back into Hogwarts in order to deliver the news. She'd then contact the Aurors nearby. If Draco felt threatened in any way, Hermione knew that regardless: it was a bad thing.

They were to meet again, the day after the next. The Order needed to be sure enough it had as many available members as possible to secure a guard at Hogwarts. Hermione knew he'd be there, even though some days she couldn't make it, Draco frequented the old castle every day, even for a fraction of an hour, in some attempt to find solace. Walking back to the Astronomy Tower the next day she realized that it was not dissimilar to returning to school for the very first time. She nearly expected to meet Draco as though it were the norm, just simply meeting a friend in the Library or to review notes from class. She almost anticipated knocking into a few first years as she passed by or having to ignore Sir Cadogan's infuriating and utterly useless trivia. However, as soon as Lupin had clapped a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, her reminiscent illusion vanished and she was warped back into the dark and cob-webby staircase that she climbed with a tinge of fear.

She knocked before she entered, leaving Lupin and the others at the bottom of the stair-well, knowing that they were just an apparition away. Draco stood there at the window, just as he always did looking like a glorified angel in the whiteness of the early morning light. There was something so pure about it, and yet something deadening. He remained silent while he acknowledged her presence with a nod as she shut the door behind her. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Better." He replied curtly.

"Listen, Malfoy…" Said Hermione, seating herself into one of the many classroom chairs, "Do you remember the last thing you said to me the other day?"

He cast her a dark look. Clearly he had not slept the night before, he was still haunted by the memory of the life he had taken. He hung his head and turned back to the view of the lake, finding comfort in his own silence. "Which part?" He replied bitterly, "The part where you yelled 'stop' or the part where your Order friends tried to stun the shit outta me?"

"The part before Tonks and Lupin arrived." She said calmly.

He continued his silence and moved his head a fraction. Hermione couldn't tell whether he was admiring the view or nodding in recognition.

"Do you remember what you promised me about making the right choices?"

She heard a heavy sigh, and found Draco still gazing out towards the open lake and vastness of the Forbidden Forest. Although it may have been an obscure trick of the light, she may have seen a single tear glimmer and die on to the rough stone of the window sill. "I didn't promise you anything Granger."

"Malfoy, last night I talked to everyone. They're willing to help you" Said Hermione. Draco almost laughed.

"What did you do? Bribe them or threaten to talk them to death?"

"There are Order Members waiting downstairs for your reply. But I have to warn you. Their conditions are that in order for us to help you, you must help us first." Hermione began wringing her wrists in nervous habit. "They've all decided that you have to provide us with information in order to prove yourself… trustworthy enough for us to help you."

Draco laughed dryly. "I knew it wasn't going to be as easy as you played it to be. It's because I am who I am, isn't it?"

"Your current occupation doesn't do very well in the Order's opinion polls either Malfoy." Hermione folded her arms as Draco began to recognize the old Hermione from before the war creeping back in.

"Listen Granger, I don't know what I was thinking last night, I didn't know what-"

"Hey! Do you want to live a life of murdering people?" Hermione snapped instantly. Draco looked towards his hands and imagined the blood that had stained them before. He looked to the Dark Mark and traced the scars of his fingernails…she was right.

"No."

"Then listen to me, this is the only offer the Order is going to make. Take it or leave it. It was the best I could do for you right now so you'd better be happy" Said Hermione quickly. "We're going to meet you here at Hogwarts, this time three days from now, but at the Great Hall. We'll either cooperate with you here or you're most likely going to have to be drugged -" Draco rolled his eyes "- and transported to another location. The Order will have control of everything. We ask you questions, you give us answers or tell us anything we need to know…That's it in a nutshell basically, do you understand?"

"What do you mean _drugged_?"

"Just taking precautions so you wouldn't know the location"

"What do you mean the Order will _control everything_? Is this one of those things where I'm tied to a chair in some dark room with only one functional light hanging from above where two Order members start role-playing the 'Good Auror'/'Bad Auror' thing on me?" Asked Draco . Hermione could have sworn that if he wasn't a prejudiced, pureblooded, muggle-hating wizard, she'd say he was watching far too much cop shows on TV.

"Er…yeah, in a way," replied Hermione uncertainly.

Draco nodded, "right."

"So… are you up for it?" She asked hopefully. Draco thought for a moment, cast a fearful glance towards the black horror raped onto his left forearm and gulped.

"I'll see what I can do." He answered shakily, acting on a whim, and an odd feeling – belief rather – that he felt somewhere in his mind that he was right. She beamed brightly and in her excitement, kissed him on the cheek.

"I have to go now Malfoy, and thank you… for doing the right thing" She smiled radiantly and skipped out of the door. Draco, stood at the window in astonishment at not only what he had just done, but the feel of her soft lips pressed against his cheek.

For once in a very long time, he sincerely smiled. "No, thank _you_, Granger"

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, my term break is coming so I'll hopefully be able to update faster. I'm sure I will since I really want to finish this before the last book is released. I'm excited yet saddened, it will be the end of an era. Well, anyways the plot is at least developing and the end is arriving quite soon… Could I trouble any of you for a review? I'd seriously like some feedback, perhaps a word or two – I don't care any length for that matter. I just need to know that people are actually reading this because hits don't really reveal much. Enjoy your day!

Review! Review! Review!


	8. Submissive

**Disclaimer:** Jk owns all characters, Potter-ish settings and basically everything that is included in her expansive bubble called the Potterverse.

A/N: I've got an update! Thank you so much to those who have reviewed! Much happens in this chapter, I think. And sadly, I believe that this might be the penultimate chapter for us all. I might add an epilogue, I don't know. But, here you go and I hope you enjoy. As usual, the last chapter ended and this chapter kind of continued from it so here's an excerpt from the previous chapter to start us off.

**He was Saved – Part 8**

"_I have to go now Malfoy, and thank you… for doing the right thing" She smiled radiantly and skipped out of the door. Draco, stood at the window in astonishment at not only what he had just done, but the feel of her soft lips pressed against his cheek. _

_For once in a very long time, he sincerely smiled. "No, thank you, Granger" _

Little did they know that a lot could happen in three days.

Hermione woke the next morning, more pleasantly than others. She didn't know why, but as she dressed or stared blankly out the window deep in thought, something about her surroundings just seemed, a tad bit brighter. With a small smile gracing her lips she slowly padded down the stairs and was welcomed by the strong and inviting whiff of breakfast cooking downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was at the stove as usual whilst Harry, Ron and Ginny were already stuffing their faces. Harry barely received sleep these days, and she really couldn't blame him. He was too occupied with the task that the prophecy had laid on him as a mere adolescent that life for him wasn't ever 'normal' anymore. Not that the life of The Boy Who Lived was ever normal to begin with. Yet with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he managed to muster up a sleepy smile as she entered the room. "Morning 'Mione." Said Harry, followed by Ginny and Ron.

"Morning everyone," she greeted as she began piling bacon and blueberry pancakes onto her plate. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley." She began to eat until she watched Harry tiredly rub his face and bury his head into his arms looking clearly stressed. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Ginny and Ron avoided her gaze as they passed the latest issue of_ the Prophet_ towards her. "Look" Said Ron, dully.

"It arrived early this morning." Added Ginny, emotion as equally non-existent. They watched her retrieve the thick bundle of papers from the breakfast table and all the same they watched her expressions travel a very fast journey from the town of cheerful possibility to shock and disbelief and all the way down to horror and fear. She was in mid-chew when she read the news and almost choked on a couple of blueberries as she afterwards let the newspaper fall loosely from her hands.

Hermione remained silent as she processed the information. A mass Death Eater breakout from Azkaban had occurred during the night and was only recently reported. To her complete bewilderment, everyone the Order had caught in the Department of Mysteries two years ago had managed to escape. She shook her head slowly in a willing suspension of disbelief. If only the ministry would ever learn, she'd gladly whoop for joy with all dignity forgotten if there would ever come a time when a decent minister could run wizarding affairs sufficiently. One ministry they're acting like a bath-house of ignorant pansies slandering those that proclaimed the truth and now they've got a man willing to shove any dodgy looking person in jail. Like Sirius had once said, the world wasn't full of good people and Death Eaters. Rufus Scrimgeour had so much faith in his Aurors and a minute understanding of dementors. There weren't many dementors to use as the legendary Azkaban guards because they had sided with Voldemort - but collaborating the remaining dementors and off-duty Aurors as prison guards could have been the stupidest thing they've contrived yet. The dementors would gradually feed off the Aurors rather than the prisoners leaving them only partially sane and unable to guard the prisoners anyway. Hermione's eyes widened in a sudden realization that hit her like a speeding bullet train.

Wait…

Galvanized into action, she immediately scrambled for the paper and read the list of escaped Death Eaters. There were numerous familiar names, people she had encountered and who of which attempted to end her life. Algernon Rookwood, Antonin Dolohov, McNair, Avery, Jugson, Mulciber… and the list went on until finally, her eyes fell upon the name she feared and dreaded most: Lucius Malfoy. "No…" She gasped and abandoned her breakfast as her esophagus ceased to function, "No, no, no…" She whispered, beginning to grow frantic.

Ginny put her arm around her. "Bill was right, Voldemort needs his numbers," Said Ginny with a dull air of despair. "Try not to worry, it'll be alright Hermione." She tried a little sanguinely as she gave her a hug. Hermione shook her head violently.

"No, no it won't. This ruins everything. Don't you see? With Lucius Malfoy out in the open, this jeopardizes _everything_."

--

Draco had returned to the Manor in which he found a flurry of people dressed in robes like he. The house elves were panicking and waddling around with food trays in hysterics. He, for once, actually witnessed his mother traipsing across the manor and out of her room without a glass of scotch in her hand. He blinked, completely bewildered as his Aunt Bellatrix hastened passed.

"Aunt Bella!" He called running to greet her. "What the hell is going on?"

She gave him a knowing grin. "Rejoice Draco, they're back."

"What- Who's back?"

"See for yourself." She led him to the drawing room where everyone was congregating. It was the biggest meeting of Death Eaters he had ever seen, why was he not informed about this? Cautiously, wary of the possibility of Voldemort's presence he practiced his Occlumency and tentatively walked through the door. It was no use to him however, as he stopped dead in his tracks the minute he stood in the doorway… and stared.

The man that stood in the centre of the room before him was thinner than he remembered, which only served to make him appear more ghastly than ever. The long, platinum hair that was maintained to perfection grew, yet was disheveled, caked with dirt and mud but scintillating just the same. His pale skin was now a deathly pallid shade, one that made him look like a glorified and terrifying inferious dressed in worn Death Eater robes. He stood tall and regal and dangerously triumphant although his attire was shabby and torn. However his eyes… They remained as steely and silver as a dagger and as arresting and hollow as the moon. His gaze pierced through the thick excited atmosphere of the room and came to rest directly onto Draco. He gulped in fear.

"…Father."

If it was ever possible that Lucius Malfoy could appear more evil and a more dreadfully formidable man, Draco now knew. The room suddenly tamed and grew quiet as Lucius studied his son who stood tall, dressed in complete Death Eater regalia. His son stood glowing in the doorway regarding him with the silver eyes that paralleled his own. Lucius smiled at him with cracked lips and a gleam in his sullen, dark-rimmed eyes, "I'm proud of you son."

Draco was completely overwhelmed by the words that had just reached his ears. He stood there in a breathless disbelief, feeling a certain happiness that he had never known. His eyes began to tear, but he blinked them away and steeled his features to betray what he had felt so superfluously that moment. "…Th-Thank you Father. Welcome back."

Lucius nodded in reply and Draco, who could no longer stand it, fled the room and retreated to his suite upstairs. Upon leaving, he caught the conversation his Aunt Bella began with his Father. "I'm terribly sorry that you missed it Lucius, it was brilliant. Only the other day Draco performed his first torture and kill on the one occasion! He was slightly disturbed by it but that's normal, we all go through it. Once he's used to it, he'll be _excellent!_" His Aunt Bella told his father with glee. "You've raised that boy well. He's the youngest of us and already he's served the Dark Lord well. You must be proud."

"I _am_ proud, Lestrange. He's finally becoming what I've always wished him to be."

It was at that moment, that Draco ran and slammed the door shut behind him.

His father was proud of him.

The cold, unfeeling man whom of which he had spent all his life trying to please had finally acknowledged him and it was the most elated and relieving feeling Draco had ever experienced. Every boy's dream was to make their old man proud, and Draco was at last achieving it. It was the first time he had ever heard those words issue from his father's mouth and it was wonderful. It was like feeling euphoric for the very first time.

But that's what made it so insurmountably difficult.

He loved the feeling of gaining his father's acceptance and respect. For once in his life, his insecurities he had held all throughout his adolescence were slipping away, and the painful need to constantly prove himself worthy was disappearing. How could he ever relinquish his father's love and respect - after just attaining it after seventeen years - for...what's _right_? How could one ever gain the strength to do that? He loved the swelling glow of joy in his heart at the opportunity to be equal by his father's side, but when he thought of Hermione and the hope and freedom she had to give, he realized he loved the thought of it too…

Draco was torn. Completely and utterly torn.

Casting a silencio around his room, he destroyed the first object he could see and screamed. He screamed until he felt he was drowning in his own voice, until he felt his world was slipping away and until his lungs finally gave out.

Some time later, half an hour maybe, there was a quiet knock on the door. Releasing the 'Silencio' he unlocked it and his mother stepped in. She suddenly looked as she did before his father had been sent to Azkaban: A regal, tall and slender woman with an upturned nose and air of aristocracy. No longer was she the almost inebriated, unkempt wanderer of the previous two years. He placed a small smile on his face and stood as she entered the room. "Hello mother"

"Draco, there's a meeting in the cellar. Your presence is required."

Draco nodded in reply and followed her out. Now, when Narcissa Malfoy mentioned their cellar, she wasn't referring to a small underground room to store wine, she meant a mini-winery underneath the manor. They owned thousands of bottles, hundreds of barrels and a myriad of countless rooms, cooling chambers for wine in various sizes, shapes and secret passages. This all adjoined the Malfoy dungeons of course. It was much like another level to the manor, for it wasn't a basement. It was much, _much_ larger. Amongst the dozens of chambers, Draco knew that one of them was held especially for Death Eater meetings.

He entered the aforementioned chamber and was amazed to find everyone seated around a round table with the Dark Lord at the head, explaining some sort of strategy to his inner-circle using magical hologram of a town, suspended by his wand. There was only one seat left – beside his father. They had already started, and all expected him to sit. "My gravest apologies, my Lord, for my tardiness, I shall see to it that it does not happen again," Said Draco with a bow as he seated himself beside his father. _So this is what it feels like_, thought Draco, _this is what it feels like to be finally equal in the eyes of the man who I have spent my whole life aiming to please_. Draco had always envisioned the moment to be glorious or triumphant, but he told himself not to dwell on romantic fantasies. Instead, he felt an immense fear that any slightest move could shatter this dream completely. He cast the notion aside to it being fear of the Dark Lord, yet some part of him knew that being seated beside the man who was his father would not suffice at all. This would never be the glory he had imagined, if only he would realize it.

The Dark Lord excused him and proceeded with his demonstration of the muggle town. "This town is within the near vicinity of the muggle capital London. We'll begin here and be rid of this town quickly. Some of your factions and the dementors will remain behind to cause enough chaos for the Order to believe this is only a small scale attack, as we have been doing recently. While preoccupied, we begin the main operation."

Draco nodded and kept his face a stony mask, feigning interest. This was the exact kind of information the Order needed him to pass on, how could he ever withhold it from them? Draco cast a sideways glance at his father who returned his look with a slight smile. How could he do that to his father?

"First, the London Eye," The Dark Lord continued as a hologram of the world's largest Ferris wheel appeared. "Then, we attack their Parliament. With their government under siege the muggles are powerless, worthless and mere insects waiting to be drowned in their own cesspool of filth. And so begins the destruction of the Muggle World." He cackled. "After the annihilation of their government is complete, we head for their unifying power – the muggle _Royal_ family." He spat the word 'royal' with contempt, insulted that they dare give themselves such a status. "I'm sure with the palace under our control Harry Potter will surely be lured into our midst where he shall meet his end. When that pitiful hero joins his parents, we perform _The Curse."_

_The Curse, _as the Dark Lord had so generically referred to it, was a curse he had developed himself. After months of work he had managed to magically create a field that covered a large enough radius to fit the whole of London. This deadly field completely and permanently obliterated all magic within it and within a matter of seconds would annihilate every living organism contained inside it. The obliteration of magic was his safe haven against any mudbloods or blood traitors as he intended for the Order of the Phoenix to be too occupied to notice their impending and magicless death. The Dark Lord was too proud and his superiority complex was too great to wish for any wizard or witch (save Harry Potter) to die that night. Only the _magicless muggles_ would.

There was only one flaw in Voldemort's intricately contrived, master plan. He needed every member of his inner circle to activate the curse, via a specific spell for it to be successful. Two needed to be at each activation point needing to recite the spell together as this curse was far too powerful for one component to be said alone. They were therefore split into partners, and just to Draco's luck, he was of course with his father. His father's presence guaranteed his loyalty to the Death Eaters, for under his scrutiny Draco wouldn't dare do anything to compromise himself. Draco was the key to everything, for without him the Curse would not be complete. He had to make a choice, and he had to make it _now_.

--

Hermione spent the morning pacing in a frightful worry as her heart suffered wild paroxysms. "This ruins everything" She pulled at the roots of her hair. "Harry, what am I meant to do?"

"I don't know." Replied Harry dully as Ginny and Ron tried to calm her down.

"I can't take this anymore," she declared, as she huffed and snatched her coat off a chair and make her way to the foyer.

"Hermione!" Cried the other three, as they chased after her.

"Hermione don't be rash, this is irrational! It's dangerous out there!" Cried Ginny.

"Don't do this! You could get yourself killed!" Said Harry firmly.

"I'm going to the Astronomy Tower to meet him. I can't take this anymore."

Before any of them could protest, she disappeared with a soft 'pop.' In the Astronomy Tower, she waited and waited. She sat in one of the abandoned classroom chairs and cast a glance towards the sun as they as they usually did, and watched slowly in a sacred and prayerful silence as it journeyed across the sky until it finally bled into a black horizon. She had never spent a day so tensed as though she expected him to waltz helplessly through the door at any minute, begging for help, comfort and redemption. Hermione prayed and prayed that he would come and allow her to help him. She prayed that despite his father's influence, he'd still choose the right path. However, they'd all think she was a fool to ever let her hopes soar far too high…

Hermione kept her vigil into the late hours of the night where she exited the Tower door in a disappointed melancholy. Slowly she trudged down the steps, not quite wanting to return home yet with the hope that he still might actually make it. The only reason why she wished to return was so she wouldn't cause any worry for any member of the Order. She sighed in defeat. If he didn't come today then he wouldn't come tomorrow. The only day she knew that he would definitely arrive would be the day after the next. She'd restrain herself and give him these two days to decide and on the third day, when he'd meet the Order, he would give her his answer. She prayed in earnest that the answer he'd give her would the one she hoped for.

As Hermione set herself down for a troubled sleep, Draco was already tossing and turning. Shockingly his father actually wanted to speak with him today, simply a mere familial conversation. It was just a small exchange of words and nothing too out of character for Lucius Malfoy was still a cold and distant man. Yet the fact still remained that his father in some way, was trying to connect with him, and his mother was emerging from her room and communicating with everyone like a charming hostess (and she really was an excellent socialite, back in the day). It hit him instantly, as though he had just been shoved off a cliff. It was within his soft silk sheets and the melodic symphony of crickets chirping outside that his troubled mind realized that despite the war raging around them… they were finally becoming a _family_. The thought immediately brought tears to his eyes, and before he knew it, his pillow was stained with the onslaught of the tears from a man who was still a child.

Draco quickly wiped his tears away and noticed the Dark Mark on his left arm. He didn't know why but in the filtered moonlight entering his room, it appeared far more hideous. The soft light traced over the scars from his fingernails and the memories exploded in his mind. He could feel the number of 'Crucios' he'd suffered, the terrifying fear he constantly experienced, the need to kill or be killed and the agony of looking into the eyes of the innocent woman he had to murder in cold blood. He never thought he could cry for two different emotions, happiness and despair. Or maybe, the thought crossed his mind, he was crying because he loathed the fact that he was able to _feel _at all.

Caught in the ultimatum before him, Draco didn't sleep a wink that night.

For Draco, the day for his cooperation with the Order came all too soon. He managed to slip passed his father and headed towards the Astronomy Tower with a lump in his throat.

He had made his decision.

--

"Hermione, he hasn't arrived. He's probably making a run for it. He's probably not going to show," Tonks whispered to Hermione.

"We'll give him a chance" Said Lupin as he checked his watch. Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Harry, Ron and Hermione all waited in the Great Hall for Draco to arrive. They had decided to do the interrogation at the Headquarters, just in case he decided to bring any of his Death Eater friends to listen in or attack. They had other Order members including Kingsley and Dawlish stationed on the Hogwarts perimeter for the same reason.

Quite suddenly, Kingsley apparated into the Hall. "We have an individual on a broom approaching the Astronomy Tower fast."

"That would be Malfoy" Said Hermione.

"Does he have anyone with him?" Inquired Tonks

"No, he appears to be alone. We've scanned the area for any other presences and it's clear" Replied Kingsley, with a curt nod.

"Fine. Let him through," Said Lupin and Kinglsey apparated out. "Arthur and Bill, you go up to the Astronomy Tower, intercept him and escort him down here." Mr. Weasley and Bill nodded and headed to the nearest stairs.

"No…" Breathed Hermione "Stop, I'll go"

"Fine, then you go with Bill and Arthur," Said Lupin.

"No. I'll go alone."

"Hermione it's too dangerous for you," Disagreed Harry. Hermione shot him a glare.

"Would everyone stop being so damned overprotective?" She exclaimed in vehemence. "Look, Kinglsey just said that he came alone. Now I've been seeing him for weeks and I know Malfoy, he won't hurt me. He needs to see someone he trusts because I bet he's just as wary about this as we are, and judging by the looks of things, I'm the only one he's got."

They nodded. "Arthur, Bill take Hermione up there, but she goes in alone." Instructed Lupin reluctantly.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, besides, I need to speak with him."

Draco was about to leave the Astronomy Tower when Hermione appeared, escorted by two flaming red-heads of the Weasley Clan - Arthur Weasley and the eldest son which Draco never caught the name of. There were too many children to keep track of all of them, all he knew about him was that Frenrir Greyback managed to have a hack at his face and that despite this; he was the man lucky enough to snag the infamous Fleur Delacour. He was apprehensive, until Hermione issued them to leave to which they obeyed but only until they got to the first landing where they were still in plain sight. Draco gulped - he didn't know how he was ever going to do this.

Hermione led him into the classroom and closed the door behind her. "Draco before we do this, I must speak with you," Said Hermione quickly as she tried to catch his eye, but her insides were filled with dread when he didn't quite meet her gaze. "I know about your father, and I know that he's back."

Draco turned away from her and closed his eyes, trying to find a shred of strength.

"I know you're going to have to make a choice and I hope that by you coming here you've made the right de -"

"I've already made my choice." His voice was harsh and cold, colder than he ever intended it to be. He turned to her and almost apologized for being forceful, but he kept a tight lip.

Hermione was stunned for a moment but quickly recovered from it. "Okay, you know if you ever need more time – you don't have to do this now. I just hope that the choice you've made is -"

"I said I've already made my choice." Draco repeated with just enough ice in his voice to give Hermione a slight chill of fear. He looked into her eyes and didn't know what else to say to her besides, "I'm sorry."

Hermione shook her head frantically, instantly knowing exactly what that apology was meant for. "No, Malfoy no! I know your father's back but please, what about everything we've worked for, what about the girl that died?"

He backed away and cast his eyes downwards, unable to look into her imploring depths any longer. If by any chance she struck a chord, he'd be in her mercy. "I'm sorry." He muttered softly as he turned to leave.

"No!" She grabbed him by the robe and forced him to face her. "Don't be a coward!"

"Granger, just – don't." He ground his teeth as it took every force within him to remain calm, collected, but most important of all, cold.

"Did these past few weeks mean nothing to you?" She snapped. Draco gently pushed her away and brushed passed her. "Answer me you bastard."

"They meant something. But they can't anymore. I'm sorry Granger." He picked up his broom and made for the window.

"So that's it then? All of it, the talks, the prospect of a new life, helping us out, it all ends here?" Asked Hermione, anger rising in her tone, "You haven't changed, have you? You're still the cowardly Slytherin who hides behind his cronies because daddy tells him to jump off a cliff and he does it." She said it with enough spite and anger that she almost recoiled at her own words. She looked away and lowered her voice to an almost barely audible level. "I'm, really disappointed in you Draco."

Her words scarred him deep, how often had he heard those words emit his father's mouth? However, he never thought that he could ever do anything terrible enough to make her say it too. He shook his head and leapt onto the edge to kick off.

"I hate you, Malfoy." She spat. He stopped and looked back to her over his shoulder with tear glazed eyes.

With a deep breath, he mounted his broom. "Next week London will be under siege and he'll be disarming all magic in the area before ultimate annihilation. You'd better not be caught." He knew he'd be risking everything by divulging this.

Hermione swallowed her next words in astonishment "I, Malfoy I – but when and how?"

"Goodbye Mudblood." He kicked off and soared into the night, Hermione ran to the window edge.

"Why Malfoy?" She screamed. He wanted to shout the answer back to her, but he knew it was futile, for his words, along with his apology were swallowed by the roaring wind.

Hermione returned to the Great Hall where their expectant faces were met with disappointment. Tonks declared herself justified and the rest of them exclaimed some form of "I knew it!" and Hermione was shocked to find herself crying. Back at the Headquarters, she relayed what Draco had told her to them and her words were met with a grave silence and deep thought. She sat in the lounge staring at the fire stonily as the adults gathered around for a meeting where they took Ron by surprise.

"Ron, what do you think should be our strategy for an initial course of action?" Asked Lupin.

"What? Why are you asking _me_?"

"Yeah, _why are_ you asking _him_?" Asked Ginny incredulously, who looked Lupin as though he were losing his mind.

"It's time we draw on your talents." He smiled. "This is all just another form of a chess game isn't it?"

Ron nodded slowly, processing the information. "Well," he began, his voice higher than usual, "If he's diffusing all magic then firstly we need to consider relying upon something other than our wands."

"Where are we going to find something like that?"

"Guns…" whispered Hermione, as she stared at the fire, "You're going to need to bring in the big guns"

Harry looked to her as realization dawned clearly on his face. He looked to Mr. Weasley who quickly grew excited and gleeful. "Precisely, Hermione," Smiled Harry, "We need to have a backup, something they won't expect, something we're sure that Voldemort would never use or even consider."

Arthur Weasley smiled and nodded, catching on. "Muggle Weaponry."

Hermione nodded and gave a small grin, yet her interior ached while wishing that Draco could have been here to join them.

A/N: I sincerely do hope that I'd be able to get a review from this. I'm so mean to poor Draco don't you think? I think might just get this story under ten chapters, which is a first for a multi-chaptered fic of mine. I've read so many fics about the war however, not one that included guns and bomb etc. I thought it would be interesting since this war is the biggest thing to hit the Potterverse since sliced bread, so might as well bring on the big guns eh?

Until next time:

Review!!


	9. The Absolution

Disclaimer: I don't own it, JK does, and if I were her, Teddy would have parents and George wouldn't feel like he was missing half of himself…let alone an ear.

A/N: Last chapter! Last chapter! But there will be an epilogue. There is an epilogue and I'm contemplating writing a one shot sequel. I can't believe I wrote this entire story for the sole purpose of writing the last part. I know it has been out for two weeks now but OMG how was Deathly Hallows? What a way to end it! I loved the way he faked his own death, that was awesome. If you haven't read it don't read this next part: I bawled my eyes out when Fred died… and Remus and Tonks. They just had a kid! It's Harry Potter all over again. I know the epilogue of that was meant to be a sweet and perfect ending but honestly, didn't that sound like it came out of some clichéd random, RHr, HG fic? I thought it did. Well, anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this, it's been about three or four weeks since I last updated and I apologise, however this chapter is double its usual length! There's a treat for ya!

He was Saved – Part 9

The week that ensued was the most flurried and rushed week of their lives. Lupin had been partaking in an increased number of undercover shifts with Fenrir Greyback, Tonks and other Aurors were working for hours on end, Harry had recalled the DA and there was practicing non-stop and there was barely any quiet time or a moment of stillness in Number 12 Grimmauld place. Harry had them all practicing Patronuses until they could conjure them on their first tries with a boggart, everyone's shielding and disarming charms had been executed excellently and they could cast a mean spell at the drop of a hat. The DA was truly becoming as its name suggested: an Army.

From Lupin's excellent skills and appropriate use of Fred and George's extendable ears, the Order had managed to discover that the attack on London would take place on the Thursday of the next week. Many of Fred and George's products had to be mass produced as well, as many of them (like the invisible hats and blinding dust amongst numerous others) had to be mass produced for the Order only. The confirmation of detailed information was also largely accredited to the former Professor Snape who arrived at the Order in a mysteriously half-dead state a few days after their non-existent meeting with Draco. Of course he was interrogated via grievous methods and Veritaserum, proving his innocence and divulging a clandestine pact between him and Dumbledore prior to his death. Dumbledore had decreed to Professor Snape that his death shall proceed, should any gravely compromising circumstances occur. For the sake of the protection and progress of the Order, Dumbledore knew that at some point it would indeed need to be exchanged for his life. It was a task that Snape knew he would suffer for dearly, yet it approved and amended any suspicions amongst the Death Eaters about his wavering loyalty. Despite that Snape's innocence had been established, he was still met with the utmost resentment from Order members, if possible, even more than before.

Hermione on the other hand, although she despised her former Professor for holding the title of murdering the greatest wizard the world had ever known, was helplessly reminded of Draco. Everyone used Snape as an example of betrayal, and if only Snape hadn't decided to go into hiding after the incident at Hogwarts, Draco could be a lost sheep brought home too. If only that were ever such a case, he was too warped in the confines of his darkness, and it pained to know that he was beyond her help now.

Through Moody and remarkably with the aid of the Ministry of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour contacted the muggle Prime Minister and the wizarding folk were able to acquire muggle fire arms, bombs, weapons and everything technology could offer. Arthur Weasley was delighted of course, and so was Harry who knew that they now owned several weapons that Voldemort would never posses. He knew it sounded lame and corny but the thought that Voldemort would never know love or kindness or a cause worth fighting for, comforted Harry in knowing that Dumbledore told him his greatest weapon was as he said six years ago: love.

Hermione whose love for books guaranteed her full marks in a test knew that this would be the test that could mean the beginning or end of her life and her books couldn't help her now. She had studied every spell imaginable and every strategy, theory method every created and still she wasn't satisfied. She practiced in every spare moment of the day when she wasn't helping the Order and tired endlessly vowing to learn how to perform every spell and curse without speaking it aloud. She knew that if she worked hard, she'd at least stand a fighting chance, but most of all, it would make her forget about Draco. They'd also practiced how to use muggle weaponry, Hermione having to explain how a gun works although not knowing how to use one herself (only drawing from what she had witnessed in the movies). To this they had brought in a few squibs employed in the muggle army to instruct them on proper safety and usage. A full scale evacuation of London could not be made however, due to enormous scale of the operation, limited time frame and the fact that Voldemort would know in an instant if anything of the sort were taking place. The Order's best weapon was the element of surprise.

Hermione wasn't quite sure she'd mastered how to use a gun, and knew her parents would be horrified to discover that she had been using one just as Mrs. Weasley had been when she discovered exactly what they could do. Fred, George, Ginny and Ron were so incredibly fascinated with the muggle technology that Hermione promised that if they all made it out alive, she and Harry would take them to the theatre to watch the latest James Bond film. It was a dream they could only wish for, they realized, when the next day, a quarter of the Order out on duty mysteriously disappeared and had been pronounced dead.

On Wednesday night Hermione lay herself down to a sleep she'd knew she'd never receive. Lying in their beds, she knew Ginny was in the same predicament.

"Ginny?" She whispered softly.

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared?"

"…Yeah."

"I'm so scared, Ginny," Hermione admitted at last. Confiding such things wasn't a commonality for her, and it had taken her all this time to admit it to someone else. "It's not just about what'll happen…I'm so scared for Harry, scared for everyone…for myself." She said quietly, feeling her eyes prick with tears.

"It'll be a stupid thing to tell you not to worry Hermione, but I can tell you one thing that I've been telling myself this while time: have faith." Ginny spoke with as much confidence and conviction she could muster, though Hermione could not see the glint of the same fear glazing her eyes. "I love Harry, and I know that he's going to pull through for me. I'm going to try and have as much faith as I can in everyone else, and I know that, that will pull them through." Ginny murmured, burying her face in a pillow.

Hermione contemplated this and nodded. "You're absolutely right Ginny… I just can't help but be filled with this… overwhelming…dread." Said Hermione.

"What is it about tomorrow you dread the most?" Asked Ginny

"Everything, "replied Hermione, "but most of all I sincerely hope that I don't see him tomorrow, because if I do, I don't know if I'll be able to…" Hermione trailed away and took a deep breath, "… to kill him" she said firmly.

Ginny turned over and looked at her fully. "He's made his choice Hermione."

"… I know." She nodded and suppressed a sob that she hoped Ginny didn't hear. Unfortunately for Hermione's pride, she did.

"You really do care for him, don't you?" Said Ginny. There was no accusation or malice in her tone, but rather the kind and harmless interest of an innocent inquiry. It was like they were back in Hogwarts, maybe a few years back when the war wasn't a reality to them. It was in this false, illusion of reality that Hermione felt it was safe to supply her best girlfriend with the absolute truth. She turned over in her bed, closed her eyes and whispered more to herself than to anyone else.

"Yes, Ginny. I do."

---

Draco woke Thursday morning from a dreadful sleep, not that he had any pleasant sleep these days. His Dark Mark had maintained a constant prickle to which he grew used to, but pain in any form was a horrible thing to be accustomed with. Much like how everyday when he woke in his cold, silken sheets he would wonder what life would be like with a warm fireplace, sitting beside her, feeling completely at peace with himself and knowing that despite all risk and all fear and all threat - he would be safe at her side because he would be doing the right thing. It wasn't so much regret that he felt, but emptiness inside and a fear that the life he chose to lead would ultimately lead to his doom. On the contrary, he and his father began to talk, his mother was brightening but his life was always cold. They were a family in some way and there was an underlying thought that they loved each other, yet that was all Draco had to cling to now, nothing else. Not hope, not redemption and not even Hermione.

He had made his choice.

Mindlessly he stepped into the shower, committed himself to his daily routine and blocked all thoughts of what was going to happen at noon that day. Slowly, he donned his Death Eater Robes, tucked his wand safely into his pocket. He placed his hood over his head and placed his mask over his face, hoping it would mask not only his visage, but his despair. Like a senseless zombie he walked out of his room and swallowed carefully. He was a Death Eater, he had his place, his niche in life and he had a job to do. At noon he would fulfill his life's ambitions and everything that his father had envisioned for him. He _would_ do this. He _could_ do this.

--

The Thursday morning had been a chilly morning, full of wind, rain and not a glimpse of the sun in sight. The morning routine had occupied Hermione's mind, if she were going to die that day, she would at least be looking ready for action. They had all been cold, miserable, but never the less, pumped and dedicated. The Order, the ministry and Dumbledore's Army were all prepared and ready to be stationed in different areas of London and the small town in its vicinity. Most of the DA had been stationed near the small attack where Snape had instructed while the rest lay in central London, awaiting any suspicious activity. Hermione remained hidden in Trafalgar Square, disguised as a muggle in her jeans, sneakers and red T-shirt. If anything suspicious were happening, she'd alert Tonks who was monitoring nearby immediately.

They had managed to recruit surprising numbers since last time and had many of them stationed over London and the nearby towns. The Underground was also being monitored as well as practically everything else. Thanks to Draco and Snape the Order was prepared. They even managed to gather a contingent of magical creatures to their side. It was far too late to gather anyone else, all manner of Dark creatures had already sided with Voldemort and so there was no hope for that.

At five to twelve, Hermione witnessed a large dark plume rise from the east. She instantly felt a lump in her throat. It had started. She contacted Tonks on Fred and George's magically modified version of the muggle Walkie Talkie. "Tonks, I see a dark cloud from the East, it's begun."

"I see it Hermione" Said Tonks firmly.

"And Harry, Ron? Where are they?"

"Don't worry they're close by" Said Tonks, reassuringly. Harry was disguised as well at one end of the square and Ron was a street corner watching for any activity entering or exiting within the near vicinity. If Hermione was scared, she couldn't imagine what it must have felt like for Harry, he had the weight of the world of his shoulders, just as he had exactly a fifty percent chance of surviving that day.

"We sit and we wait everyone, do not move from your stations, we cannot alert them of our presence." Moody's gruff voice emitted from their contraptions. Hermione nodded and continued to mindlessly walk around, as though the she were a tourist enjoying the view. They waited, and waited. And just when they thought that the dark plume rising may have just been a trick of the light, a distinct rumble was heard from a distance away.

"Tonks did you hear that?" Said Hermione into her walkie talkie, looking around for any sign of chaos.

"Loud and clear Hermione, I'll contact everyone and see what's going on. Don't move" Instructed Tonks, and soon she was out of frequency.

"Harry, Ron? You alright? Do you see anything?" Whispered Hermione into her walkie talkie, furtively.

"Nope" Came the shaky reply from Ron, "But I am getting a really bad feeling about this."

"Hermione, Ron, my scar is hurting," Said Harry, "It's not like normal, it's really hurting…aargh."

"Harry- Harry, are you alright?" Hermione spoke frantically.

"I'm fi -" He was cut off however, by Tonk's whose rapid voice came screeching into their ears.

_"The Underground is under attack, it's under siege and so is the __London__ Eye, they'll all be over __Thames__River__ by this point."_

"What do we do?" Asked Hermione, "There are tones of muggles there!"

"My scar… is really…"

"Harry, please don't do anything irrational!"

There was a loud rumbling clap, like thunder rolling off into the distance, and thousands of screams penetrated the air.

"Listen I just got word, they're heading for Parliament," Said Tonks, "They're attacking several places at once. I'm telling you to not move."

"I'm going." Said Harry determinedly.

"Mate, did you just hear what Tonks said?" Asked Ron. His voice was drowned however, by hundreds of people running into the square, screaming and wailing as a few enormous trolls trailed behind them.

"Oh…my… God… Tonks? Tonks!" Said Hermione hastily.

"I see them Hermione, just – move out of their way, it's useless to stun them just do whatever you can to get those people out of harm's way. That goes for you too Ron, Harry." Said Tonks, who apparated from her monitoring point and into the square. There she saw Ron and Hermione run to her. "Harry, where's Harry?"

"He's…" Hermione looked around, "Oh no! He said he was going! It could be a trap!"

"I'm going after him," Said Ron and apparated without hesitation.

_"Ronald!" _

"Hermione you stay here, I'll be back with reinforcements. I gave you a job to do." Tonks apparated out and Hermione could feel the panic rising in her throat as people ran around her like a colony of swarming ants as the Trolls terrorized them. The monstrous beings kept batting at buildings with their clubs, sending debris flying everywhere. They picked people up and threw them across the square. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whipped out her wand.

_"__Wingardium__Leviosa__!"_ Drawing from Ron's example when they were eleven, she swished, flicked and knocked one out with its own club. Apparating to the other side of the square, she found one picking up a little girl by the hair. _"Impedimenta!"_ I need to get these people to safety, she thought quickly as her mind panicked for answers. Running to the next building, she flung open the doors and cast the 'sonorous' charm on herself. "EVERYONE INSIDE! NOW!" Using her wand, she flung open the doors of every nearby building.

Hermione was desperately drawing on her apaprating skills as she apparated all over the square, repeating the message and knocking trolls out with fallen debris. There were still hundreds of people in the square however, and one or two trolls around. "EVERYONE! GET INSIDE."

Quite suddenly, the sky grew dark and a certain chill filled the square. An odd feeling of doom and misery settled in her stomach as the familiar feeling sent panic to her senses. The sky blackened, ice began to creep and people began to scream. "Oh… bloody hell _NO!"_ Just as she feared, ten dementors swooped into the square. She cast the sonorous charm on herself once again. "EVERYONE GET INSIDE!" There were a few who complied and a few who either didn't care or didn't listen and still continued to try to run to their cars or run aimlessly into the next street. The dementors began swooping down on the nearest civilians. Hermione almost cried. Grinding her teeth, she thought of the happiest thing she could muster. She thought of memories with Harry and Ron and Ginny, laughing with Hagrid, enjoying the days in the Headquarters… and she thought of Draco as she held his hand in the Astronomy Tower for the very first time.

_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _

The white and wispy full-bodied otter exploded from her wand and charged towards the nearest dementors. She repelled a few instantly, and turned around to witness a man having his soul sucked from his mouth. She aimed her wand at him, and looked to her otter, "GET IT!"

Her Patronous darted around the square brilliantly and repelled and repelled. Hermione however, knew that this was a charm which required her utmost concentration, in which she was highly adept. But even after a few minutes, she knew she was wearing out, and her concentration was wavering. She knew she couldn't keep a patronous alive for so long, and there were too many dementors all at once filling the square and attacking so many people simultaneously. She knew she simply couldn't reach all of them. "Tonks! Where the hell are you with that back up! I cannot defend this entire square by myself!"

It was with this thought that her otter withered and died. She thought of Harry and Ron once more, _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ The otter shot forth from her wand again and repelled another dementor. This wasn't enough however as one caught her from behind and swooped down. It was the most peculiar sensation she had ever felt, as though a dark shroud was threatening to suffocate as she was plummeting from a cliff helplessly. Feeling as though the world were vanishing away, Hermione grew weak and dropped her wand as she tried to fight the darkness engulfing her senses.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Tonks had arrived with a few more Aurors by her side and fended off the dementor that was sucking Hermione's soul. "Hermione! Hermione? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she croaked, and stood shakily as sweat dripped from her brow.

"Come, I'll get you to safety."

"No! I can still fight! I want to fight! I want to help Harry."

A moment's hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I am!"

"Ok I'll take you to him." She grabbed Hermione's hand and apparated. Side-apparition wasn't exactly Hermione's style, but that didn't matter when the scene before her, blasted into her sight. It was like something Hermione had seen on the news, on muggle action movies, in the London bombings, September 11. It had all been distant to her, something to remember, commemorate, and feel sympathy about, but never something real. Often she'd imagine what she would have done if she were set in that certain situation before she'd cast judgment on anyone who she witnessed running and yelping frantically from the incident on TV. She remembered on her summer holidays that she'd wonder in boredom what she'd do if she saw someone die before her eyes, or if a bomb had exploded on the same bus she'd been riding, or if her train ever crashed. She'd imagine what she would say, who she would call and what she would do. She would be calm, level –headed, dependable Hermione.

However in this moment when her thought processes needed her most, every thought, every notion, every pre-emptive strategy she had devised in her mind had flown from her consciousness, for nothing could ever prepare her for what she witnessed as she appeared. Still clutching onto Tonks' arm with a vice like grip, she realized why she couldn't recall a single thing she'd thought of in her mind: this was real. It was no longer distant, it was real.

Tears immediately stung her eyes as she witnessed blood splattered across the floor, tripping Aurors and duelers who had been engaged in their intricate dance of death around her. The smoke and panicked cries of muggles still dressed in their formal pantsuits, ducking behind their briefcases as they yelped in fear at the wondrous jets of fatal light that had burst from wands with the power to cause the power to harm, and the power to kill. It was only until Tonks yanked her to the side and beside a large piece of fallen building that she had snapped out of her horrified trance and realized that she was standing as clear as a lighthouse amidst a fiery battle. All she saw was a flurry of smoke, red splatter; perhaps a limb or two and the imploring eyes of the injured staring at her as their bodies littered the floor. Tonks pulled her to another side of the building and behind a wall to avoid the direct line of fire. They had leapt over multiple bodies laid motionless on the floor where Hermione hoped they were either unconscious or asleep, because she didn't dare allow herself to think of the alternative. _Of reality_.

She only had to take one look in Tonks' eyes to understand what had happened here, and what was still happening here. She suddenly felt guilty for cursing Tonks for being late. "Where's Harry?" She asked hastily, finally being able to regain her composure.

"With You-Know-Who," Said Tonks darkly, clearly everything had begun. Hermione suddenly ducked to the floor and pushed Tonks with her as a jet of light soared into their direction, blasting the wall behind them to bits.

From around the corner, came a woman running, laughing maniacally, closely followed by a man barreling straight into them. "…They're about to be revenged you insane whore! _REDUCTO!_"

Another part of the wall had been reduced to a pile of dust.

For a boy who had never possessed any real talent with magic, Neville Longbottom surely produced a mean reducto spell. Never had she seen such fire and luster in his eyes as he chased, raving, after Bellatrix Lestrange. She smiled an evil grin as Neville charged at her, his wand brandished with the intent to kill. As Hermione crouched there on the floor, she had never thought she'd ever see the mettle and courage of Neville Longbottom that had procured his seat in Gryffindor house. The two destined children, Harry and Neville, both with their own battles to fight and she felt a small bubble of pride expand in her chest. It could not however, dispel her panic when she was wrenched from behind, as a wand tip pointed itself into her neck.

Without a thought in her mind, Hermione whipped out her own wand and pointed it to any random spot behind her and shouted the first jinx that leaped into her head. _"__Furnunculus__!"_She apparently scored as she felt the hold loosen and a guttural yell against her ear. Pushing the Death Eater off, she ran in any random direction her feet would take her in an effort to find Tonks. Continuing to run, she evaded spells fired off at her and even had the courage to wordlessly swing them back, using non-verbal spells. She needed to find Ron, Harry, Luna, anyone that she could help, or anyone that could help her as she ran through various duels amongst wizards.

Just as she reached outside, a curse caught her legs. Shrieking with adrenalin and fear, she tripped and tumbled through blood and debris until she was hauled roughly from her hair and thrown onto the floor. She was roughly shoved to the side and trampled by a mass of leather boots and black cloaks.

The force of, what seemed like hundreds of bodies using her as a doormat, was unbearable. She strained to keep her eyes open as they trampled across her hair and her back, and hard boots scraped along the backs of her thighs. With the vibrating pain splitting her head, she fought to remain conscious against the unintended assault. Her senses were blackening and she could feel herself falling, but as soon as she was sure she would not have survived, the stampede had ceased, and she was finally able to breathe again. This however was a difficult task, as pain shot through her right side, where she was sure she had broken a rib. She tried to stand, but her muscles would not comply. Every bone in her body ached with the pain and pressure she had just experienced and her limbs bled from the rough soles of their merciless feet.

Groaning she managed to roll herself over and retied her blood-smeared hair. She didn't dare stand in fear for her broken rib and tried to feel whether anything else was broken. When she felt it was safe she arduously turned her head in a visual search for her wand. It lay a few feet away and slowly she crawled towards it, grimacing at the pain and the impairment to breathe. She muttered a quick healing spell and stood, gasping at the pain that panged through her muscles. She had suffered numerous flesh wounds but realized she'd be alright hoping she had escaped with only a concussion.

Continuing her search for her companions, she ran through the mess, amongst throngs of duelers and jets of light, reminding her of a muggle dance club. Shaking her head wearily, she headed towards the direction of the most sound. Catching a few stray Death Eaters from behind, she leaped over their bodies and was surprised to discover that it had been only a little over an hour since the debacle had begun, and it would be over soon. She had no idea where she was headed but stopped immediately as she heard two Death Eaters whispering. Her eyes widened, as both of them were painfully familiar.

A gasp of pain

"Draco, the Dark Lord has ordered an advancement of the Curse, but only the magic nullifying component. His orders are not to recite the second spell" Said Lucius hastily. Hermione was concealed around the corner, but she was sure that Draco would be nodding silently. "The Potter boy is not going down, those with the mark are immune to this, and he knows that this will be the only sure way to defeat him. When he sends word, we activate."

"Yes, Father."

Hermione felt a stroke of pain somewhere, physical or not, when she heard his voice crack in the slightest. She calmed her breathing and remained hidden, knowing that if she revealed herself she'd either have to kill Draco's father, or Lucius would make Draco kill her first. Or worse: she'd have to kill Draco herself.

Another gasp of pain, "Father, my mark is burning… it grows darker…"

"Very well, wand at the ready Draco…"

She heard a step or two, and nothing else. All sound was drowned by a deafening rush of red wind whipping through the entire area and knocking her backwards into the next wall. Feeling that her head was battered enough already, she clutched it and bit her lip to prevent the moan from escaping her throat. Surprised, she checked herself and didn't feel any different. Picking up her wand she muttered a simple spell. _"__Lumos__"_

It hadn't worked.

She knew better than to attempt once more. She looked around wildly for any sign of movement, anyone to help her as fear mounted in the pit of her stomach. Here she was magicless when two known and very powerful Death Eaters stood around the corner. Although she had no way to shield herself, her eyes trailed down her body and towards the two handguns settled stationary by the waistband of her ripped and bloodied jeans. Although she was muggleborn, guns were a foreign concept to her, and she hesitated to grasp for one and disengage the safety. She gulped and prepared herself for the worst.

"Malfoy! Oi! Malfoy! Potter is battling the Dark Lord! It's a must watch event!" Cried a voice, too close to where Hermione stood. She prayed silently, that he would remain oblivious to her presence and tried to edge away as silently as she could.

_"Rookwood!"_Reprimanded Lucius, "You are meant to be at your station! The Dark Lord will send the second annihilation signal at any moment!"

"Well he's not going to do that if he's occupied with Potter now is he? Now are you going to come and watch the Potter boy fall, or not?"

Hermione's heart pounded thunderously. Harry was in the fight for his life, hitherto this would be the climax of his existence, and she couldn't be there to support him. If only she could do magic, then she could perhaps disapparate to him fast.

"…We will join you shortly," Said Lucius, quickly coming to his decision, "Draco and I will remain at our post for the time being. If however, the Dark Lord sends a message, and you are not at your station – _you _will suffer the consequences. Not I."

Rookwood, remained silent for a moment. "It's the duel of the century!" He cried, "It's something not to be missed." Hermione, somewhere in the back of her mind was reminded faintly of Ron and Harry, and their excitement at the Quidditch World Cup before this fiasco began. The thought was almost enough to produce a tear. Caught in her reverie, she didn't realize that where she was hiding was en route to the location of Harry and Voldemort's duel. She should've realized it, she thought, she could hear the distinct explosions and cries not far from her vicinity. However, before she could run and conceal herself further, she was discovered.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here!? Another muggle? I thought all your pitiful order friends evacuated you filthy lot." Rookwood jeered as he yanked her up by her hair with a gloved hand.

"Take your slimy hands off me you Death Eater!" Not missing a chance, Hermione did the boldest thing she had ever done in her life: she spat in his face.

"You disgusting whore!" Rookwood threw her against the wall and whipped out his wand. She couldn't believe that she, Hermione Granger who could perform almost every spell imaginable, was at the mercy of all those who wore the Dark Mark. "Crucio!"

Hermione's agonized screams were enough to send both Lucius and Draco Malfoy running.

"Rookwood, what are y- ?" Lucius paused mid-sentence and grinned, "I was wondering when the Granger girl would present herself."

Draco stood there, his eyes glazed and his mouth wide open with shock. He couldn't speak nor feel, nor think – not when Hermione was being tortured before him. And like a damn breaking into liberty he was being reminded of that girl all over again.

"Rookwood, I believe you have a duel to witness, leave this one to me." Lucius smiled as Rookwood released the curse, and Hermione lay on the floor breathing heavily. She kept her eyes tightly shut, for she knew that if she opened them she'd immediately seek Draco's gaze. She _couldn't_ do that to him. Draco had made his choice, and she had loved him enough, not to ask him to save her. "…Crucio"

Just as her breathing began to calm a raw scream erupted from her throat, grating and grinding her vocal chords with excruciating disregard. She writhed on the floor, convulsed and screaming, wishing for it to end. But Lucius Malfoy was relentless. He had tortured her repeatedly, his sadism and enjoyment increasing with every round.

Draco watched it all and wanted to run away, if not spill his breakfast across the floor. As much as he wanted to run, he was rooted to the spot and his eyes would simply not tear away from Hermione's tortured form. He tried to close his eyes and cover his ears to block it out, but nothing would move, she had completely frozen him as though with a body bind curse.

He watched motionless as she writhed upon the floor, every thought in his head drowned by her screams. In the fear of the moment, amidst his shock and horror, everything seemed to have leapt upon him all at once. It was as though he was imbued with everything he felt and shared with her, and then he forgot the years of hatred and torment. Instead he remembered the past few weeks: the way her eyes glowed when she'd argue her point, the warmth and softness he felt in her hands the first time he had ever held them, the concern etched across her face, the assurance and solace he found in her arms, but most of all – she was his sign of hope, and her light was diminishing before his eyes.

He tried to gulp but no muscle would move, and could only stare in consternation as he father grinned, increasing the pain, and finally he wrenched his gaze away and roughly wiped the tears, he didn't he was shedding, away from his eyes.

_This is wrong, _he thought, _I can't stand by and watch Father do this_. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. If he stopped him, he surely would be the receiving end of every curse they knew without a doubt. But…Hermione… her pain wasn't worth the pride of this horrid man beside him. He hated her screams, for he was strong enough to bare his own pains by himself, yet it was impossible for him to bare hers. He couldn't let this happen, not again. Most importantly…he couldn't let this happen to the girl who…

He opened his eyes, and came to a revelation. _I've made the wrong choice. _

"Stop…" He rasped quietly. "Stop"

Lucius gave him an odd glare, and ignored him.

"Stop, father" He said firmly "Stop that right now - _PROTEGO_!" Draco had whipped out his own wand and shielded Hermione and Lucius immediately advanced on him. Upon seeing the glint of anger and madness in his father's eyes Draco was struck scared. He clenched his fists and amazingly he found that he was able to suppress his fear, because he knew other things were more important than himself, and that for once in his life, he was doing what was right.

"Draco! What on earth are yo -"

"I won't do this anymore, Father." Draco said confidently, titling his chin ever so slightly. "I will not do this."

Lucius' eyes narrowed, in clear understanding. "Then you are no son of mine."

The words cut him deep. However, what Draco would remain completely obscured to, was his father's own dice of pain he had quelled as he spoke the words that would forever shatter the fragile bonds which had agonizingly begun to rebuild themselves inside their already torn family.

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius cried but Draco deflected the spell.

"Father don't-"

_"Stupefy!"_

_"__Protego__!"_Said Draco quickly, "Father -"

"You are no son of mine! _Crucio__!"_Lucius had pointed his wand at the weak Hermione who was struggling to stand. Draco leapt immediately and pulled her out of the way. Cleverly predicting his son's reaction, he used Draco's moment of distraction to his advantage. _"__Expelliarmus__!" _and Draco's wand flipped out of his hand and into his.

"Then you will die a muggle, just like them." Lucius' words were ice. Draco remained silent and pressed his lips together firmly, trusting himself not to speak. He crouched to Hermione's side, thinking wildly that he couldn't believe what he was doing. "Draco! Do not touch that filth!"

"I'll do what I want." He said loudly, marveling at his own audacity. Although his expression was determined, he shocked himself, never had he ever rudely snapped at his father like that, and to Lucius it was like a slap in the face.

"If that is your wish…" Said Lucius softly as Draco helped Hermione stand and was surprised to find two guns in her possession and recalled vaguely about her describing them to him. "... then I shall bid the both of you farewell." He said it too simply, yet it was the emptiness in his voice that Draco feared the most. And he had every right to. Lucius held out his wand and pointed it towards Hermione.

_"__Avada__Kedav__-"_

_"__Malfoy__ look out!"_

On instinct Draco grabbed the gun and there resounded the deafening sound of a shot.

A terrifying moment lay between them, as Hermione clutched him and watched Draco stare in shock and mortification at what he had just done. Lucius Malfoy's wand slipped out of his hand, as a spot in front of his black robes grew darker, blooming like a grotesque blood made rose onto the material …and he collapsed.

How ironic was it for Lucius Malfoy to die from a gunshot wound by his son's own hand.

Draco's hand shook to the point of the gun slipping completely from his hands, landing with a startling clatter to the floor. He jumped and turned to Hermione, blood spatter coating his robes. She looked to him with an overwhelming expression that he couldn't quite read, before she wrapped her arms around him and burst into tears. "Draco, I'm so sorry!" She cried, burying her face into his chest.

Awkwardly he wrapped his arms around her trembling form and found home. "It's… It's fine. I couldn't let him do it, it was self-defense." His voice was dispassionate but she knew his monotone was his device to conceal the hurricane of emotions held within.

"I'm so proud of you, Draco, Thank you," She held him tighter, and he couldn't help but feel a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Hermione proud of him was a feeling that by far, surpassed his father's acknowledgement. "I'm so proud of you."

"Why? I chose not to help you remember?"

"Better late than never"

He allowed the smile to play across his lips and buried himself into the scent of her wondrously bushy hair. "Yeah," he whispered into her neck, "better late than never."

The pristine moment however, was broken by Draco's gasps, as he quickly released Hermione and collapsed to his knees, clutching his left forearm. "The Dark Lord's sending the signal. He's sending the signal." He choked out.

"What signal?" Hermione said helplessly, as she tried to help him stand.

"It's part of the curse I told you about, the first part is magic nullifying, the second, is ultimate annihilation" Said Draco ominously, "You had better get to Potter, he'll need all the support he could get if we've nullified all magic of those who don't wear the mark."

"But Draco, what about you?"

"I'll try to stop everyone I'm the only one who knows how to do it. They still trust me. I can still pass through their defenses. Besides, I'm the only one on your side who can still cast magic, aside from Snape of course" Draco replied, scanning the area for any Death Eaters in the near vicinity.

"No, that's too dangerous. What if they find out about… about your father? They'll…kill you, won't they? What about the dementor's kiss? Voldemort said that you'd receive it if…" Hermione trailed away into silence, finding herself incapable of finishing that sentence.

"Just leave them to me Granger. Help Potter. With any luck, Potter was unaffected by the nullius spell" Said Draco. "If The Dark Lord and Potter's wands are connected, and the theory that The Dark Lord passed a part of himself into Potter the night his parents died proves correct, then I believe Potter would be as exempt from the nullius spell as I am."

"How do you know this? Wouldn't Voldemort have figured that out already as he was creating the Curse?" Asked Hermione, acutely aware that there was growing activity around them.

"I don't know. All I know is that there's a chance for us to win, and I'm going to take it." Screams erupted around them. "I'd better go Granger. You'd better go too, you need to support Pothead, and save the world like you usually do." Draco said with a sudden conviction and resolve she had never seen from him as retrieved his wand from his father's hands.

She nodded and withdrew hers, but hesitated to leave. There was something too empty about this parting. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, having no words to say. Slowly, she stepped back to leave. The screams and yells of suffering grew louder around them, as the walls reverberated with miss-shot spells of the battle between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.

"Granger, wait," Draco sprouted loudly, "I…I wanted to…" He didn't know what to say. He was never accustomed to saying 'thank you,' but if there was one way that he could convey it, he knew how.

Without warning, he kissed her. It was a hasty and fiery kiss that took Hermione completely by surprise. Yet before she could even respond, he quickly pulled away.

"I've always wanted to do that," He grinned devilishly. Hermione stared at him, still emerging from a whim of shock. What she knew was that Draco was more himself now than he had ever been: his greatest fears lay beneath his mischievous smile and playful mockery and despite this, he had suddenly grown into the man who challenged the world to take him on. "You should start heading the other direction, Granger," Said Draco, and she caught a glimpse of the arrogant and reckless schoolboy, "I've gotta go." He stared off into the distance, his face grim with determination. "Well, see you around." He smiled uncomfortably and hesitated. If there were any trace of fear within him, he most definitely did a damn good job of keeping it hidden.

Draco, who was never talented with the sentimental, was atrocious at goodbyes and didn't know what else to do but lift an arm to say goodbye and he turned to leave. Hermione, who had remained silent the entire time, suddenly felt her eyes widen and prick with tears, knowing that this may be the last time she would ever see him.

She choked on a cry, _**"Wait!"**_

Grabbing his arm, she smashed her lips fiercely against his and threw her arms desperately around his neck, wishing never to let go. He responded quickly enough and clutched her as tightly as she did him, engulfing her in his embrace. He kissed her with fervor and passion he had just discovered himself feel and with a sadness he had lived with for a lifetime. He exorcised every emotion he had into that kiss, and allowed his reservoir of fear to flow through. He did so with the hope to burn out whatever doubts he had in him, to be able to do what he was going to do. He wanted to share this with her, wanting and knowing she'd feel it too.

Hermione, just as Draco did, poured everything into him, hoping that this would definitely not have to be their last goodbye. When they parted, they stared at each other breathlessly and Hermione thought she was going to cry. Blinking back the tears, she tried to draw on her Gryffindor courage, that she felt at that moment was non-existent.

Not a word was passed between them as Draco squeezed her hand gently, chastely kissed a stray tear from her cheek, grinned at her and left, wand raised. The image if his retreating form as his robes billowed behind him like a hero as he left was burned into her mind as something she'd never forget, before she decided to do the same.

Hermione felt something rise in her chest as her tears died on her lips as she turned to leave… and for the years to come, she never saw Draco Malfoy again.

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The dew laced grass crunched heavily beneath her footsteps as she attended yet another funeral. This one was at dawn. Like all wars, Harry and the Order had obtained a pyrrhic victory - the war had been one at the cost of too many lives. That had been a week ago. Harry and Ron stopped a respectful distance away from the service as Hermione paid no mind and continued to trudge in a heavy silence, deeper into the hilly glades of the Malfoy property. Only a handful of people stood by the empty coffin: old friends, relatives and colleagues having came to bid farewell to the one who was too young to die. His body however, was never found.

Hermione cried for days on end when she found out, her last memory of his billowing robes and gentle touch constantly resurfacing before her eyes. She didn't even know how she gathered enough strength to come here today and attend the memorial for Draco Malfoy. The sky had only begun to lighten in pre-dawn preparation as dewy icicles clutched the ends of her deep black robes where she continued to walk. Pansy Parkinson had just concluded her testimonial at the front before Hermione's approach caught her gaze. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she fixed her with a glare.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered angrily.

"Giving my testimony," Said Hermione stonily as she bowed her head and gently pushed passed her. Taking cautious, even steps, Hermione stood before the small crowd and took a deep breath.

"You have no right to be here," Snapped Pansy, "You were his enemy. You hated him and he hated you."

"I don't intend any harm," Hermione replied softly. "I came here today because I could allow this to remain unsaid. I couldn't allow all of you to leave here today without knowing who Draco Malfoy truly was." She silenced them all with the softness of her voice, "I am not referring to the boy I had hated for seven years, but rather the boy, who in just a few short weeks, grown into a man before his abrupt d-death. He had grown into a man I had learned to like, come to befriend and eventually, grown to love."

She stared at them all as the sun began to emerge from behind the still treetops, golden rays highlighting the white marble coffin and casting warmth upon their faces as fiery reds and yellows spilled gloriously into the sky. The dew began to melt from beneath them as they all watched Hermione, shock still evident on their faces mingled with the daringness to believe.

She continued, "Draco Malfoy died with his weaknesses. Those weaknesses which kept him strong; kept him redeemable and finally allowed him to die with even the smallest glimmer of innocence and kindness he had denied himself all the years of his life. There existed a glimmer of hope within him concealed amidst the abyss of his darkness. He was one who was privileged enough to reach the potential of what his life was destined to be, although he only truly lived a few precious moments of it. May his courage in adversity be remembered for persevering through the judgment of cowardice… and may his last actions, forever dignify the memory of a life too short-lived."

She ended it. Hermione suppressed a sob in her throat as she walked through the throngs of people, slowly parting like the Red Sea. She blinked back her tears and saw that the sun had fully emerged now, its rays reaching out like hands desperate to warm all of their hearts. She made her way silently back to Harry and Ron who received her with a hug. They began to walk down the luscious green hill, and Hermione paused to cast one last glance at what remained a memory of Draco Malfoy. The future held great uncertainty; they now had the responsibility of building a new world and Hermione held a deep and echoing emptiness within her heart. And yet she smiled, for none of that mattered now, she thought. None of it mattered, for He was Saved.

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. _Martin Luther King, Jr._

The End

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A/N: I can't write war or fighting type scenes. I suck at those so I'm sorry if it sounded very… off. Everything, this entire story struck in my mind for the purpose of writing that memorial scene. I can't believe it, it took this long to get to that part, but we made it! Thank you my lovely reviewers! Without you, this story would probably have never been uploaded, so I take my hat off to you. I know it says 'The End' but please stay tuned for the epilogue, there may be a sequel, try checking my profile over the course of the next few months to see. Could I perhaps trouble you for a review? A word or two would be great, I would like to know how you faired with this last chapter.

I gave you 14 pages at size ten font!

Just a random piece of trivia: That last speech or eulogy or whatever made by Hermione there, had been written at the back of my very large Art Diary amidst all my random drawings, in pencil and had stayed stationary for two years, and now, I've finally used it. :D

Review? Press that little button, you know you want to.

Click away, my friends, click away!


	10. Epilogue

A/N: I think after all that, some fluff was in order. Here's the ending guys, I'm sorry that you did have to wait so long… Enjoy!

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**Epilogue**

6 months afterwards

The owl had come to her surprisingly as she walked with Harry, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins into the cinema. Startled to see such an integral part of the Wizarding world swooping in on her, she barely caught the deep burgundy letter it dropped into her hands. They were on their way, as promised, to view the latest James Bond film. The Weasleys had been terribly excited to the point that Arthur Weasley himself had fought tooth and nail to attend, but was restrained by Mrs. Weasley saying it was the 'children's time.'

They were already running late, as it was left up to Hermione and Harry to help them configure their way through the trains, with tickets and all. They were surreptitiously bombarded with questions about the muggle world and how everything worked, to how funny or coolly they dressed. When they at last made it to their destination, the film was to start in five minutes and Hermione was delayed by the oncoming owl. She opened the seal carefully and read the contents, making sure that she didn't miss a beat.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We __apologise__ for the short notice, but your presence is required at the law offices of Gold and __Heartwick__ at 12pm today concerning the hearing of an important document to which your name is mentioned. _

_Warmest regards,_

_Percival Gold and Harold __Heartwick_

_Gold and __Heartwick__, legal advice, worth the price _

_PS. You lucky girl_

Hermione looked up from the parchment completely nonplussed. Harry and the Weasleys who had been reading over her shoulder stood back in surprise.

"Why is the Wizarding World's most prestigious law firm needing some sort of document recital with me?" Asked Hermione

"Seems like our Hermione has been a naughty girl" Said Fred.

"No, it's nothing like that," she reasoned, "But whatever it is, I'd better go. You guys go ahead and enjoy the film, it should be starting now."

"Are you sure?" Asked Harry.

"Positive, hopefully this doesn't take long and I'd be able to catch up with you."

They parted with their goodbyes and Hermione disapparated to Gold and Heartwick. Gold and Heartwick, she found with a dropped jaw was a large marble building, with a prestige and air of wealth that had rivaled that of Gringotts. It was a multileveled, glamorous building with hundreds of wizards in expensive silk robes entered and exited with stern professional grimaces or silken clothed clients with their noses held in the air. Amidst this crowd, she felt extremely out of place. She entered the marble tiled building and approached the front desk.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" Asked the only kindly looking woman in the place

"I'm Hermione Granger, I received this letter today," she said handing her the letter, "so I'm assuming I have a twelve o'clock appointment with either Mr. Gold or Mr. Heartwick."

"Ah yes, Miss Granger, head right up to the fifty-first floor, they're expecting you."

"Thank you," she smiled and headed to lifts. When she arrived at the fifty-first floor, she was met immediately with the sight of a large golden door that had swung open to greet her. The second sight was that of her former Professor Snape exiting the office swiftly as he greeted her with a curt nod, which she returned it with a small smile. Stepping cautiously inside, an old man smiled at her and shook her hand.

"Hello Miss Granger, I'm Harold Heartwick. It's a pleasure to finally meet you" Said the old, balding man with whispy white hair, purple robes, a beard that challenged Dumbledore's and a smile that reached his eyes.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Heartwick" Said Hermione as she followed him to his desk where he sat down.

"Please, take a seat Miss Granger," he instructed to the red, cushioned seat opposite him. She complied and watched his nervously as he shifted through a large stack of parchment with his half-moon spectacles.

"Er, you said I was mentioned in a document, sir?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"Ah, yes," he smiled once more, which gave Hermione the feeling that he knew something she did not. "You see, we have just uncovered the wills of Lucius, Narcissa and their son, Draco Malfoy."

She nodded, "But what does this have to do with me? "

"Oh everything, Miss Granger, everything," he replied "It has been tradition in the Malfoy family that all of their possessions, property, wealth etc. be bequeathed to the eldest or next heir. As you can see here," he held up a section of Narcissa and Lucius' wills which indicated that the sole benefactor of _everything_ would be Draco. Hermione nodded, still befuddled but allowed him to continue.

"If there has been no heir, or if they are an invalid then, the wealth will proceed to the next available family member unless specified." Said Mr. Heartwick slowly, making sure she understood every word.

"Yes, but I still don't see -"

"You see Miss Granger, there has been a specification."

"What?" That Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy would include Hermione Granger in their will would be like a snowball's chance in hell.

"You see here in section one of Lucius and Narcissa's wills that they have specified a few belongings to Severus Snape, Algernon Rookwood, Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks and so on and so forth but as you can see, essentially almost everything has gone to their son Draco." He held up the ridiculously long sheet of parchment. "As you may know, those specified people are dead, save for Severus Snape and Andromeda Tonks. Therefore, those possessions automatically go to Draco."

She nodded again, patiently, wondering where she would be mentioned, if she was mentioned at all.

"I know you know that although Draco's body has never been found, no trace of his continual existence has never been discovered either, so therefore he has been presumed dead for six months. Therefore we have uncovered his will, which he signed when he turned seventeen and became an adult last year." He said in a matter-of-fact tone, oblivious to the fact that what he was saying was disturbing the girl before him.

Hermione blinked away the tears, "Yes, I know. I still don't understand Mr. Heartwick. Everything would go to Draco right? And since he's dead, it would go to the closest relative."

Heartwick nodded in agreement. "Yes, naturally that would be the case but when I said that there has been a specification, I meant that there has been a specification in young Mr. Malfoy's will."

Hermione was shocked into silence. _Drac__o had included her in his will? _

"I must say, he must have anticipated something, because he did amend it shortly before his time of death." Heartwick paused, and let it sink in. "I don't know what else to say Miss Granger, but congratulations, you really must have done something to him because as you see here," he held the parchment to her, "Draco Malfoy… has given you everything."

She almost fainted.

_"W-What?"_She asked softly.

"You've been given everything Miss Granger. Everything. I don't know if you can comprehend how much that is but includes, Malfoy stables, their five manors, three chateaus, two villas… well there's a lot but you own it."

She blinked.

"Oh, and along with his will, he requested that we give this to you in person." A smiling Mr. Heartwick held out a small letter to her, which she fumbled open with shaking hands drinking every word into her heart.

_Granger,_

_I don't know what to say, and I can't say much now but, you deserve this – every single __knut__. You deserve it. I tried to think of whom this should go to, heaven forbid my annoying and slightly demented cousin living in Bulgaria. You'd know what to do with it after I'm gone, the first thing I know, would be to free all the House Elves, am I right? _

_I was thinking that there are so many things that remain unsaid, so many conversations that should have been shared and never had been. I owe you them Hermione, but before I do that, I'd like to say goodbye for now, and not __forever. What I've truly been meaning to say all this time, but never really had the Gryffindor guts to do it, are the seven words that are fun__nily enough, the hardest things __to say: _

_I'm sorry_

_Thank you_

_I love you_

_Yours Always, _

_Draco __Malfoy_

His neat script ended there and Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes. "…I love you too…" She murmured quietly, tucking the letter into her breast pocket as something tugged at her heart. All concerns had suddenly flown from her mind, and the sorrow and uncertainty of Draco's death had left her. After all, broken unbreakable vows meant death…

…And, well, Snape was still alive.

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_A little cryptic there at the end! _Well, guys, it's been a good long run and I hope you enjoyed, because I sure did! I would also like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to my fellow accelerants especially Bianca, who has taken a liking to manga and seems to like pimping out this story to other students every now and then to my embarrassment. But I'll see you all later! Keep an eye out for the sequel! Thank you all for your time!


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